Paint It, Black
by bugsytrex
Summary: Part 1 in a series exploring the time between BTTS and Fast Forward. Here in part 1, the Turtles bring a genetically engineered chimera under their wing. Things go haywire and they end up facing new enemies across different countries. Plus, Slash is creating chaos, the EPF up in arms about a mysterious ancient ruin, and who is the alien bounty hunter named Max Wilsocchi?
1. Chapter 1

" _I look inside myself and see my heart is black_

 _I see my red door, I must have it painted black_

 _Maybe then I'll fade away and not have to face the facts_

 _It's not easy facing up when your whole world black…"_

 _London, England_

 _7:04 AM_

Grey clouds hung like a heavy shroud over the skies of London. Mist fell over the city, leaving a wet sheen on his windshield. The wiper blades of Dr. Marius Schneider's BMW swept back and forth in front of his eyes rhythmically. The chilly weather did little to dampen his spirits, however, as he drove along the London Orbital Motorway. He decided last night that he would ask the love of his life, Sarah Pomfret, to marry him. As he neared his intended exit, Dr. Schneider's mind swam with memories. His family, his childhood, his college years; yet it was the memories of the last twelve years of his life that were the most vivid to him.

As the world's leading geneticist, Dr. Schneider's groundbreaking work in cloning, hybridization, and gene editing caught the attention of a powerful man from the United States named John Bishop. Unknown to almost everyone, Bishop was the head of the US's "Earth Protection Force" or EPF: a highly classified arm of the American government; charged with protecting earth from extra-terrestrial threats.

For reasons that were still unknown to him, Dr. Schneider learned that the EPF was formed under the 18th President of the United States, Ulysses S. Grant in 1873, under the command of John Bishop. Through the years Bishop remained the commander of the government's secret agency and no one seemed to question his unnerving agelessness, mostly for fear of the answer. All anyone under Bishop's command knew was that he was not a man to be trifled with and that he was singularly focused on the task of preparing the earth for alien invasion; some would even call it an obsessive focus.

As the decades passed, the EPF had various alien encounters, most notably in 1947 with the UFO crash in Roswell, New Mexico. With each encounter with a new alien race, Bishop and his team accumulated and appropriated highly advanced extra-terrestrial technology as well as biological specimens which Bishop used in a multitude of genetic experiments.

Bishop and the EPF thought they had seen it all, until twelve years ago. It was then that all of Bishop's worst fears had come true: the earth was the victim of a large-scale invasion by extra-terrestrial beings: the Triceratons.

The Triceratons were searching for some sort of cybernetic professor that went by the name of "Fugitoid". Apparently, the Fugitoid was sought after for some sort of teleportation device. Admittedly, Dr. Schneider mused, he didn't pay much attention to the reasons for why the Fugitoid was so hunted, as cybernetics and theoretical quantum physics was not his cup of tea. What mattered was that ultimately, the earth was spared, the Triceratons departed, and the earth no longer doubted the existence of extra-terrestrials.

It was during the invasion when Bishop resolved that four mutant ninja turtles needed to become EPF property so that they could significantly advance his "super soldier" program: a decades-long project he had been working on in order to combat an invasion of earth from extra-terrestrial threats. He had known of the Turtles for years through the same plethora of methods that kept him abreast of alien activity throughout the world.

During the confusion that followed the aftermath of the Triceraton invasion, Bishop was able to apprehend the four turtles for a short period of time. While they were in his custody, he was able to obtain blood and tissue samples from the mutants. However, before he could dissect them for further research, they were saved by their "father", a mutant rat called Splinter, and their friends April O'Neil and Casey Jones.

After the Triceraton invasion, Bishop resolved to double down on his efforts to protect earth from another invasion from extra-terrestrial beings. If he was obsessed before, he was consumed with his work now. Nothing would be allowed to get in his way of saving the earth from future attacks even if that meant the world's human population had to absorb some..."collateral damage". After all, Bishop surmised, the world would benefit if fifty-seven percent of the humanity simply...vanished.

Bishop's plans were temporarily put on hold after a more pressing matter emerged: the US government, upset with the inability of Bishop and the EPF's inability to not only warn of the Triceraton invasion but also their inability to do anything about it threatened to cut the funding to the EPF! Bishop, unwilling to let his life's work go to waste, schemed to create a fake invasion in order to kidnap the President so that he could understand why the EPF's work was necessary.

The fake invasion, in order to be believable, needed to be real enough so that Bishop and the EPF would receive unlimited funding from the State. That meant creating counterfeit aliens, aliens that Bishop could control. With the help of the brilliant scientist, Baxter Stockman, a small contingency of alien clone hybrids were created. The alien clones were set loose upon New York City, and according to Bishop's plan, they kidnapped the President.

The Turtles became aware of the plot and nearly sabotaged his efforts. But ultimately, Bishop and the EPF were fruitful in their endeavors: they saved the President from the "invasion" they created and received the necessary funding to continue their work.

However, there was an unforeseen consequence to their plan: through the events that played out, the genetic materials that the alien clones possessed, managed to leak into the sewer system. The alien DNA that was used, along with the genetic accelerants used to stabilize and increase the speed of mutation, began mutating whatever creature the remnant genetic material came into contact with like a virus.

According to Bishop, one of the creatures that became infected with the vestiges of the alien clones' genetic materials was none other than one of the Turtles: the one that went by the name of Donatello. The alien DNA caused a secondary mutation, turning him into a savage monster! And, much to Bishop's surprise, Donatello's brothers eventually sought him out at his headquarters in the notorious Area 51.

Luckily for the mutant Turtles, not only were they working to neutralize what was eventually called "The Outbreak Virus" but he was in need of them in order to obtain an object from the criminal organization known as the Foot Clan. A tentative truce was forged: the object that Bishop needed in return for curing Donatello.

Both sides kept their word: the Turtles obtained the object Bishop needed and Donatello was cured. Bishop destroyed his command post at Area 51 since it had been compromised, and the Turtles went home to New York.

It was then that Dr. Marius Schneider was contacted by Agent Bishop and was offered an opportunity to work with the EPF. He was charged with the task of aiding Stockman in the development of "super soldiers" that would protect the earth.

A rush of excitement filled Dr. Schneider, recalling the way he felt all those years ago. It wasn't money that enticed him to work for the United States agency, it was curiosity; it was the opportunity to "play" with alien and mutant DNA.

He could still feel the adrenaline tingle at the tips of his long fingers as he turned his BMW toward the exit ramp, leaving the London Orbital Motorway. He then turned southward on A243, heading toward his own lab facilities: Curiosum Labs.

The memories of the first day he stepped into the genetics labs set up for his use at EPF headquarters, flooded his mind. It wasn't long before he was able to utilize his expertise in genetics and sharpen those talents by the way of highly advanced alien and government technology.

Dr. Schneider dove into his work, creating various combinations of human-alien hybrids for Bishop's super soldier program. Some never survived, of those that did, they were set loose upon gangs like the Purple Dragons to test their viability.

Things seemed to be going well until it turned out that one of the Turtles friends, Angel, was caught up in one of the EPF's "test runs" against a local gang. She had gone into an abandoned warehouse, known as a place where criminal drug deals could be made, in order to save a friend of hers from buying more drugs. Angel was seriously injured, and while Angel ended up making a full recovery, the Turtles were on a warpath.

As usual, the Turtles had an annoying habit of getting in the way. They hunted down the makeshift facility that was being used to coordinate the hybrid's test, and shut it down along with the EPF's "test soldier", with all the grace and precision that martial arts and a few well-placed explosions could manage.

It was after that attack that Bishop resolved to get rid of the Turtles. He had enough of their interference in his plans. He commanded any viable super soldiers to be tested against the Turtles. Yet, in each case, the Turtles prevailed. Eventually, Dr. Schneider suggested they create their own mutant turtle. Bishop agreed and the resulting creature was named "Slash".

Slash marked the first time where Dr. Schneider directly combined the DNA taken from the blood of the Turtles and the alien DNA he had been experimenting with and used a modified form of the Outbreak Virus to mutate it all together. While initial tests against the Mutant Turtles proved promising, it was quickly discovered that the alien DNA still had a detrimental effect on the mutated DNA taken from the Turtles.

Slash's cells began to break down and, combined with an accelerant used in his mutation process, the turtle's mind began to deteriorate. The creature created by Dr. Schneider became increasingly hostile and violent. So much so, that after he was ultimately defeated by the Turtles, it was decided Slash had to be decommissioned.

At first, Bishop wanted the creature put down, but Dr. Schneider convinced him to keep him alive, if for nothing more than further observation and experimentation. Bishop ultimately agreed, coolly asserting that Slash was to be kept at Dr. Schneider's own lab facility, along with an EPF security team.

Dr. Schneider inwardly shuddered as he recollected that it claimed the lives of five EPF operatives in order to subdue Slash and ship him to Curiosum Labs. But, as the old saying goes, it's always darkest before the dawn, and Dr. Schneider couldn't help but feel a smile pull at the corners of his thin lips. "The Siren, our 'morning star' brought a new day…" he mused softly, his baritone voice flavored by a British accent in Received Pronunciation or, RP.

The days following the deaths of the five EPF operatives had been sobering. It was plain to him that they were spinning their wheels trying to beat the Turtles into submission. How many more lives would it take? How many more mutant animals would be sacrificed? It was no longer about playing god with genetics. Lives were at stake!

A brilliant idea hit him like a slap in the face! Dr. Schneider pulled out a notebook and pen at his desk and began to jot down his thoughts. When he felt his idea was fleshed out enough, he approached Agent Bishop and explained his proposal.

"What are you saying, Doctor?" Bishop had asked, coolly.

"What I'm saying, Agent Bishop is that it seems all efforts to use brawn has failed repeatedly with the Mutant Turtles. Perhaps, we are going about this all wrong. What if we tried a different approach?" He paused for a heartbeat, "All of the Turtles are male, correct? Well, what is the one thing that all male creatures need, regardless of their species or place in the animal kingdom?"

"Bacon!" A young agent quipped from behind Bishop, a smile on his face. To that, Bishop responded with an icy stare. The young agent's smile promptly faded.

When Bishop's attention returned to him, Dr. Schneider answered the question, "Sex."

Agent Bishop's expression soured. "I'm not interested in starting a breeding program, Doctor."

"Hear me out: how familiar are you with ancient Greek mythos?"

Dr. Schneider's mind was pulled back to the present as he approached an office complex of unimpressive, shale-colored buildings. The unassuming Curiosum Labs concealed to anyone passing by the mind-bending work that was going on inside the walls. Agent Bishop at first wasn't entirely thrilled about Dr. Schneider's labs being out in the open like they were. Dr. Schneider reassured him, "A wise man once said, the best place to hide is right out in public!" And, as the years passed, Dr. Schneider was proven correct: no one really cared to know what went on behind the walls of Curiosum Labs.

He turned the wheel and pulled into the gated parking lot. He stopped at the gate and a security guard stepped out of the small booth wearing a dull grey uniform. "'Ello, Dr. Schneider!" The older man said with a thick accent, pegging him as a "True Londoner". He smiled brightly. Scott Finnegan had worked security most of his adult life. Nearing his sixties, he was at the age that he should have been preparing retire, yet he stayed on because he enjoyed his job. For nearly 15 years, Mr. Finnegan worked for Curiosum Labs and served the genetics facility with distinction.

"Hello, Mr. Finnegan! How are you this fine morning?" Dr. Schneider's heart always warmed seeing the smiling gentleman at the gate.

"I'm doing quite well, I am! Ms. Pomfret is already 'ere this morning, sir." Finnegan said warmly with a twinkle in his eye. Over the years, his friendly personality won over the vast majority of the workers at Curiosum Labs. So much so, that he developed friendships with everyone from the janitorial staff to Dr. Marius Schneider himself. As such, it wasn't long before the older gentleman knew of the romantic relationship between Dr. Schneider and Ms. Pomfret. "Are you ever going to ask 'er, sir?"

Dr. Schneider smiled wide, "I am, Mr. Finnegan. Today, in fact. I bought the ring last night."

"That's jolly good news, sir! Congratulations!"

"She has yet to say 'yes', Mr. Finnegan. Don't congratulate me just yet!" Dr. Schneider said with a chuckle.

"I know Ms. Pomfret adores you, Doctor. She'll say 'yes'."

"I do hope so, Mr. Finnegan."

"I know so, sir." Finnegan flashed another smile, "'Ave a brilliant day, Dr. Schneider!"

"You as well, Mr. Finnegan. Say 'hello' to your wife and those lovely grandchildren of yours for me!" Scott Finnegan smiled and returned to the booth in front of the gate, pushed a button, which opened the mechanized gate wide enough for Dr. Schneider to drive through. He pulled into his designated parking spot in front of the building and breathed in deeply. Yes, today was going to be a jolly good day, indeed.

He exited his car, pulled on his lab coat that hid a jewelry box with the engagement ring he bought in the right pocket, clipped his badge to the front lapel and walked toward the building with long strides. At six-feet-two-inches, he didn't possess the appearance of the quintessential "brilliant scientific mind". He had rugged good looks: wavy, salt-and-pepper colored hair and piercing green eyes.

He entered the lobby and was greeted by the security duo at the front desk, Mr. Thompson and Mr. Cardwell. "Good morning, Doctor!" The two said almost in unison.

"Good morning, chaps! Mr. Thompson, how's that new daughter of yours?"

"She can't sleep through the night yet, but the Mrs. and I aren't fussed about it! We're still over the moon!"

Dr. Schneider smiled, "Good to hear, Mr. Thompson. Have a great morning, gentlemen." He turned down a hallway and entered into a corridor of elevators. He took the first one that opened and hit the button for the seventh floor.

The chatter of Mr. Thompson's new daughter conjured up memories of the conversation he had with Bishop that led to the creation of his own "daughter", of sorts.

"I'm perfectly familiar with Greek mythos, Doctor. Get to the point." Bishop had stated.

Dr. Schneider nodded, "Of course. Ancient myths, particularly ancient Greek myths have a plethora of temptress archetypes. They knew that just like two sides of a coin, the seductive beauty of the fairer sex could also possess a darker, more sinister nature to it: it could lure men to their demise!"

Becoming excited, Dr. Schneider turned to a whiteboard positioned behind him in the stark meeting room. He uncapped a dry erase marker and began to write as he spoke. "Early Greek records state that it was believed Zeus created Helen of Troy to 'rid the world of its superfluous human population'. For three thousand years, Helen has been the exquisite archetype of an agent of extermination. She was the quintessential temptress or, the femme fatale.

"The Sirens too lured many sailors to their deaths by the power of their irresistible song. Odysseus had to tie himself to the mast of his boat in order that he may evade them. My idea is simple: we create a 'Helen' or a 'Siren' of sorts; a creature so captivating that she would be irresistible to the Turtles but, she would be trained to be our own exquisite agent of extermination! We can use the DNA from the Mutant Turtles that we have and the same alien DNA that we used for Slash-"

Bishop interrupted, "Doctor, I don't think I have to remind you that the results from combining the DNA from the Turtles with alien DNA, were…unstable."

"Yes! But, I've been thinking…perhaps if we also add human DNA to the mix…it could work as a sort of 'buffer' between the two. Particularly if we used…" He paused for a heartbeat, "…particularly if we used human DNA that has already been clearly altered by extra-terrestrial means."

Bishop cocked an eyebrow, "You propose to use mine, Doctor?"

"Yes. Your altered DNA will most likely be more agreeable to the process: I'll have a better chance at success. The 'siren' I'll create will have the strength and speed you want, she will be intelligent, loyal, physically sublime, and…I'll ensure this, she'll be sterile. So there will be no unauthorized breeding."

Agent Bishop's face betrayed no emotion, "How long will this take?" His tone hinted at the fact that he was unconvinced.

Dr. Schneider sighed, "It will take time. But," he paused for a moment, choosing his words carefully, "Respectfully Agent Bishop, but you've commanded the EPF for nearly 200 years. It would seem to me that 'time' is a commodity that you have an abundance of." He paused again, studying Bishop's face, "But I think that you're a man who can appreciate taking the time necessary in order to make sure that a plan is successful, instead of rushing headlong into various situations, only to absorb failure.

"When the 'siren' is ready, we can have her serve as a spy of sorts: have her infiltrate the Turtles - and they will want her to infiltrate them! I'll ensure that by engineering her genetics in such a way that she will be physical perfection! She could then administer some sort of tranquilizing agent or poison and…you'll then have either unfettered access to the Turtles for further experimentation or, you can have her get rid of them completely!"

Bishop's dark eyes narrowed behind the tinted lenses of his wire-framed glasses. His mouth was fixed in a near-expressionless manner, breathing deeply, his broad chest expanded under crossed arms. Bishop turned on his heel and walked slowly toward the exit, then stopped. He turned back to Dr. Schneider, and slowly moved toward him. "The bulk of your focus will remain on my super soldier program, Doctor." He paused, "Create your 'Siren'…but don't let it interfere with your primary objective. This 'siren' of yours is only a contingency…" He turned and started toward the door, "Take what you need to your Curiosum Labs facility in England. I'll send an extra security team for your project. If you are successful in the creation of the female, we'll discuss her training and education."

True to his word, over the next year, the bulk of Dr. Schneider's progress was focused on the super soldier program, while spending the rest of his time flying back to England and working on what he called, "Project Siren".

Using his expertise in genetic cloning and hybridization, Dr. Schneider and his team at Curiosum Labs took the DNA from one of the Mutant Turtles and combined it with Bishop's altered human DNA. Alien DNA was then inserted to fill in the gaps, and, using an improved and modified version of the "Outbreak Virus", they mutated it all together in a controlled manner. The process was repeated 486 times before a viable combination was found. When it was, the entire team erupted into a celebration! The first – and only – mutant turtle, human, and alien chimera had been successfully created! Had he not been a man of science, he would call it pure magic: the creation of new life by mixing species! The celebration didn't last long, however. Dr. Schneider and his team dove in and began the gene editing process to determine the female's physical appearance.

The precision used to direct the Siren's attributes was near artistic and the results were nothing short of miraculous! After informing Bishop of their success, Dr. Schneider was then instructed to find a capable tutor to teach the creature in the seductive ways of a courtesan. Meanwhile, Bishop would provide a martial arts instructor until the siren's mind had grown enough to sustain a bio-data transfer which would inject all of the Agent's memories and martial arts training into her psyche.

Their search for a tutor in seduction led them to an adult film star, Sarah "Honey" Pomfret. Over the years, her working relationship with Dr. Marius Schneider blossomed into a full-blown love affair. The oddest of odd couples: the brilliant geneticist and the former adult film star. Their happiness was infectious and it wasn't long before the entirety of Curiosum Labs desired for the two to exchange marital vows.

The elevator arrived at the seventh floor, as he absently fingered the jewelry box in his pocket. The doors opened and he was greeted by a bespectacled, bronze-skinned woman in her late thirties, possessing long, black hair and wearing a lab coat. "Good morning, Dr. Gouyen." Dr. Schneider stated with a sigh. "I do hope to one day learn how you became so adept at knowing precisely when I'd step off the lift."

Dr. Kushala Gouyen, made headlines in the United States ten years ago as the first Apache woman to win The Gruber Foundation's "Genetics Prize", which was presented to a leading scientist in recognition of groundbreaking contributions to any realm of genetics research. Shortly after that, Dr. Schneider, impressed with her intellect, hand-picked her to work with him at Curiosum Labs.

Dr. Gouyen ignored Dr. Schneider's statement with a shake of her head, "Doctor, I was hoping that we could revisit our conversation from earlier…"

"If you're referring to our subject's training, we've discussed everything that there is to discuss." Dr. Schneider turned to his right, and began to walk quickly down the busy hallway; moving past multiple laboratories with engaged, lab coat-clad scientists, working on various projects.

"Well, we need to discuss it again! She's-"

Dr. Schneider abruptly stopped and turned toward her, "It." He stated. "Not 'she'. It. We created it and its training is bleeding necessary!" He sighed and shook his head, "I truly admire that you've channeled your maternal instinct into this, I really do-"

"Oh come off it, Marius! This has nothing to do with my being a mother, and everything to do with ethics! We're training a child to-"

He interrupted her, "It's not a child. It's a prepubescent chimera that, again, we've created." While Marius Schneider should have winced at the familiar use of his first name, over the last nine years Dr. Gouyen had been on his team, he learned to overlook such minor offenses if it meant keeping her on his payroll. He understood long ago that her brilliance was only matched by her compassion.

Dr. Schneider stood akimbo in front of her, speaking in a hushed tone he said, "Need I remind you of the men who lost their lives, trying to contain the creature in the basement of this building? How many people must needlessly die? How many families must have loved ones never return home? How many more creatures, like the one in the basement, must I create in order to eradicate those mutant turtles?" He took a deep breath, then exhaled, "And what of the creature below? It is now a failed experiment whose sole purpose now is to be subject to further experimentation until its condition claims its life. Is its life less valuable than our Siren?"

Dr. Gouyen folded her arms over her chest, "Sonseeahray. I named her Sonseeahray."

"Yes. Which, as you've told me, means 'morning star' in the Apache language…" Initially, he would have preferred a Grecian name like "Sappho" to be given to the siren. However, the chimera had become partial to the name given by Dr. Gouyen. Through the years, he came to like the less pretentious moniker of "Sonseeahray".

Dr. Schneider shook his head again, turned and continued down the hall, Dr. Gouyen following after. "I picked you to be on my team because of your brilliant mind, Dr. Gouyen. Might I suggest that you remove yourself emotionally from the work that I've given you? Sonseeahray, as you call it, has one purpose and one purpose alone..." He stopped short in front of a large, reinforced steel door that was flanked by two heavily armed EPF agents. Turning his attention back to her, "That purpose is to infiltrate, seduce, and eliminate the Mutant Turtles. Don't forget that." Dr. Schneider turned his attention to a keypad on the wall, located to the right of the door.

Before he could enter the code, Dr. Gouyen spoke up, "Could we at least consider bringing on a psychologist in order to ascertain that no permanent damage is being done to her, psychologically?" They starred at each other for a moment before Dr. Gouyen finished her thought, "The last thing we need is another 'failed', and psychologically unstable, experiment contained in the basement."

Dr. Schneider sighed, "Alright. I'll see what I can do. But no promises." He entered a four-digit security code into the keypad by the door. It slid open with a soft, "wooshing" sound as he continued, "Agent Bishop and the EPF have already sunk a lot of funding into Project Siren, with no concrete results as of yet. I'm not sure he'll be up for paying for yet another expert on our staff."

Dr. Gouyen followed him through the door, "What do you mean, 'no results'?! We literally created an intelligent, self-aware, chimera that can claim no kinship to any creature on earth! That's something!"

The pair proceeded down a stark corridor that gave way to a honeycomb of expansive laboratory rooms, all encased in a clean mix of steel walls, reinforced windows, and white floors. Dr. Schneider glanced toward Dr. Gouyen before a pair of sensor-activated glass doors opened before him, "Yes, but we still are not rid of the mutant turtles! They've prevailed against every test subject thus far."

They entered a room filled with computers where several scientists were tapping away on their keyboards. To their left, was a massive door made of reinforced steel, and locked with an electronic code that changed every hour. Behind that door, there were the specimens of numerous test subjects and a small container that housed blood and tissue samples, one from each of the Mutant Turtles. To the right, there was another hallway leading to another set of rooms all housed in reinforced glass. One of those rooms was used for medical checkups, another larger room was used primarily for physical exercise, another was filled with books on various subjects, and finally, a room that contained a bed and a small dresser belonging to the chimera named Sonseeahray.

As Dr. Schneider and Dr. Gouyen walked down the hall, they noticed a blonde woman, her hair pulled up into a loose ponytail, dressed in plain clothes in the exercise room. She was flanked by two men in lab coats, and behind them, two men wearing the uniform of EPF commandos.

"Your Sonseeahray's training in the sensual arts may be our best chance to save lives, Dr. Gouyen. Bishop's super soldier program will protect our planet from another alien invasion, but it all starts with destroying the Turtles. They have a nasty habit of getting in the way of our work! Sonseeahray's beauty and sensuality may succeed where brawn has failed."

He gazed through the glass door at the young chimera they created. Their 'siren' of Project Siren. The young creature held a banana in outstretched hands toward the blonde woman, a smile on its face. A hint of the Siren's future exquisiteness already beginning to shine through her underage features. He sighed.

They were interrupted by a young scientist with brown hair and eyes racing toward them, "Drs. Schneider and Gouyen, we just got word from the security team in Hades, project Slash has died!"

Dr. Schneider nodded solemnly, "Alright. Have a team confirm Slash's passing. Once that's done, move him to the morgue and have them start preparing his body for dissection tomorrow morning."

"Yessir." The young scientist vanished as quickly as he appeared.

Dr. Gouyen frowned. "At least he's no longer in pain…" her voice trailed off.

The majority of the employees of Curiosum Labs called the basement "Hades" for good reason: Slash was housed down there. The often violent, hulk of a creature had a propensity of lashing out at various scientists and EPF security personnel. He terrified everyone in the building.

Dr. Gouyen knew that Slash's debilitating mental state was due, at least in part, to the condition that stemmed from the alien DNA in his system attacking the mutated turtle DNA. Yet, she was overwhelmed with sympathy. She had seen for herself the extent to which that condition plagued him: his skin started to die and rot off of his body. At first, small pieces. Then, larger chunks of rotten flesh would fall to the floor, exposing raw tissue or, in some cases, bone. A pale yellow ooze would flow from some of the open wounds and a heavy stench of rancid meat filled the air around him. Eventually, one of his eyes turned an opaque white, then promptly rotted out of his head, leaving only a vacant orifice behind. Surely, she surmised, the pain he must have been enduring only exacerbated his mental instability.

Her hypothesis became evident when she approached one of the scientists observing Slash. The massive creature was strapped and chained to a steel table in the middle of a lab surrounded by surgical equipment, scientists, and armed security. He began to smell the air, drawing in deep breaths through his nose like a bloodhound. His one remaining golden eye, suddenly sprung open, "Siren!" He managed to spit out in a sort of blood-chilling, gurgling roar. He began thrashing uncontrollably against his restraints, threatening to break free!

"Siren! Siren! Siren!"

Slash kept screaming. The EPF security force raised their weapons, zeroing their sights on the mutant turtle that was frantically trying to free itself! Slash took several shots of a sedative from the scientific team before he quieted.

Dr. Gouyen ran out of the basement and hadn't gone back since that day. There was something about how violent he became and how he roared "Siren" that chilled her to the bone. How did he know about Sonseeahray? And why did he react so turbulently when he picked up on her scent? Dr. Gouyen shuddered inwardly and wrapped her arms around herself.

"Slash was the first non-human creature I created for Bishop and the EPF…" Dr. Schneider sighed, pulling Dr. Gouyen's attention away from her thoughts. "Let us hope that Sonseeahray will be the last. If her skills are needed, as I fear they will be considering the failure of the Reaper's test, the fate of humanity will rest on her success! If she completes her purpose, eliminating the Turtles so that we can have unfettered access to the entirety of their biology, we will be able to create a soldier capable of saving all of humanity from another Triceraton invasion…or, something much worse." Quoting from Homer's Iliad, he whispered, "On us, the gods have set an evil destiny, that we should be a singer's theme for generations to come…"


	2. Chapter 2

New York City, America

8:02 AM

The vast labyrinth of New York City's sewer system was dark and damp: a foreboding place to be even if one was a member of the city's underground maintenance crew. A slight chill clung to the air no matter the season along with a pungent odor that was a mix of mildew, rusting metal and sewage. Those who ventured down into the tunnels beneath the city never stayed long: first, out of fear of getting lost and second, without the proper gear, one would not be able to weather the conditions there for too long...unless, one had been raised in the secretive shadows of New York's depths.

One such family lived out their lives in the penumbra of the city's subterranean passageways. In a forgotten nexus of tunnels, a sequestered portion of New York's underbelly was formed into a home. A multitude of candles was placed strategically around the sunken dwelling, mixing with the fluorescent glow of electric lights that hung from the ceiling. The air was surprisingly dry in comparison to the rest of the tunnels and, the fetor that clung to the air that surrounded the makeshift abode barely penetrated inside its walls.

In the large central chamber, the relaxing sound of running water echoed through the expanse from a pipe funneling fresh water down a slide into a pool below. Beside the pool was a Japanese rock garden. To the right, in an adjacent chamber, a multitude of interconnected computer screens cast a soft, blue glow into the central chamber. The computers were accompanied by a large makeshift laboratory filled with various Bunsen burners and glass jars. Connected to the laboratory was a large room, filled with an array of mechanical equipment and tools. Behind the pool and rock garden was a dojo, weight room, ofuro or, Japanese bath, with an adjoining shower as well as a kitchen and dining room. To the left of the central chamber was a connected honeycomb of rooms including bedrooms, a meditation alcove that was concealed by beautifully decorated fusuma, and a kamidana, the abode's Shinto shrine that was used to honor a man named Hamato Yoshi.

Usually, the underground residence was filled with various sounds that were a mix martial arts training, power tools, and video games. Today, however, it was abnormally quiet. The four mutant turtle brothers who called the space their home were gathered in the bedroom of their father, Splinter. For the last few days, they took turns looking after the aged mutant rat, tending to the wounds he suffered from a fight that occurred between their family and the latest experiment from Bishop and the EPF.

"When will we know if it worked?" Michelangelo asked in a hushed tone. While he and his brothers were in their late twenties, he was the youngest and, by all accounts, the most happy-go-lucky with the biggest heart. However, Mikey had been less than his jovial self as of late. He had been worried ever since their last confrontation with Bishop and his soldiers.

"That all depends on him, Mikey," Donatello answered in a whisper. As the resident computer, engineering, chemistry genius, and unofficial surgeon among his brothers, the bulk of the scientific and medical work fell on his shoulders. While he was extremely confident in his engineering skills, his certainty in his emergency surgical skills was another story.

"He's going to make it. He has to." Raphael said quietly, holding one of Splinter's weathered hands. Through the years, Raph was often accused of being a "hot head" due to his fiery temper. However, that inclination to give himself over to his anger wasn't his only attribute. It was also known that his tough exterior concealed a warm heart; he felt emotions deeply, and once his friendship was earned, a nearly unbreakable bond of loyalty was earned with it.

Leonardo said nothing, only sighing deeply. Leo was the oldest of the four; the most responsible focused, and task-oriented. Due to his talent for strategy, the duty of leading his brothers through battle fell on his shoulders. That duty was a responsibility that he did not take lightly. He possessed an intensity that was only matched by Raphael's fiery temper. Leo was unwaveringly devoted to his family, the art of ninjitsu, and a strict code of honor. During the last few days, he replayed the fight with both Bishop's latest experiment and EPF commandos over and over again in his mind; searching for a mistake that must have lead them to this.

A few days ago, Bishop sent his latest super soldier on a test run. That genetically enhanced creature was called "the Reaper" and it was stronger, faster, and stealthier than the other modified human soldiers before it had been. But what made the Reaper more nefarious than the other E.P.F super soldiers they were pitted against, it targeted Splinter.

The last time that the EPF successfully targeted and apprehended their father, Bishop bragged that Splinter's mutated mammalian DNA was precisely what he needed in order to complete his super soldier program. In fact, Bishop and the EPF were able to complete one such soldier which they called, "The Slayer": the first of an army of human clones, created in the likeness of Agent Bishop himself!

Bishop desired to set them loose onto the population in order to ferret out any alien species that may have been hiding among humanity. However, Bishop was unable to see his plan through. The Turtles and their friend Leatherhead arrived at the base that Bishop was using, combatting EPF soldiers and the Slayer that was recently awakened. Not only were they able to save their master, but they managed to inadvertently destroy the base due to a massive explosion. The Slayer, the clones, and all the information were annihilated in the blast.

This time, Bishop mockingly suggested that their aging father wouldn't be in the world much longer anyway, so they may as well donate his body for scientific progress. "You'll have the honor of knowing that your 'father' helped save humanity before his advanced age claimed him!" He sneered. The taunt set the four brothers off: jumping into a furious melee with Bishop's Reaper and EPF soldiers!

The brawl was hard-won, and not without its costs: even in his advanced age, Splinter was still a force to be reckoned with. He was still a master of ninjitsu and more than proficient in the use of various weapons. But on that day, the father in him eclipsed the ninja master. Seeing that his sons may well be overpowered by the machete-wielding Reaper, Splinter intervened on their behalf. While he was able to finish the Reaper, lancing the creature's eye and spearing its brain with the sharp end of his walking stick; the Reaper was able to connect a blow on Splinter's left side. What at first seemed like a mere graze, turned out to be a more serious injury when Splinter began to bleed heavily. The Reaper managed to slice into Splinter's ribcage before collapsing onto the ground in a lifeless heap.

Bishop and the EPF engaged in what the Agent called "a tactical retreat in order to regroup" and vanished from the scene, leaving the Mutant Turtles alone in disturbingly still laboratory and their gravely injured father. The Turtles quickly swept Splinter back to their home beneath New York's streets.

"Donnie?" Leonardo asked as Donatello exited Splinter's room after performing emergency surgery on their father.

"I've done all I can." He frowned. "I-I'm just…it's just that…I'm an engineer, Leo, not a doctor. I just hope it's enough."

Leonardo had placed a comforting hand on his brother's shoulder, "Whatever it is, Donnie, it's enough."

Michelangelo soon emerged, a distraught look on his face. "I'm gonna get Master Splinter another blanket."

During the procedure, Mikey had been Donatello's unofficial nurse. It was an easy choice: ever since they were young, Mikey had always had a knack for sutures. As the years went by and they matured from teenagers to young adults, and now to turtles in full adulthood; through their many battles and life-threatening situations they often found themselves in, it was clear that their family needed a sort of "combat medic". They needed someone who was adept at biding broken bones, cauterizing bleeding wounds, and sewing sutures on the battlefield.

While the more complex medical procedures were still left to Donatello, the role of the resident combat medic seemed to flow from their youngest sibling. "Besides," Mikey once quipped, "I have the best bedside manner out of all of you guys!"

It wasn't long after attending to Splinter's wound that their sensei, as well as the Turtles themselves, realized that because of his advanced age, he was not healing as well as he should have been. The wound on his side kept oozing fluid, regardless of the efforts from both Donatello and Michelangelo: the wound was simply refusing to heal. As things were on this day, the Turtles would barely leave Splinter's side: hoping for the best, but fearing the worst.

So caught up in their thoughts of Splinter, the Turtles didn't hear their longtime friend, April O'Neil-Jones, enter their home. Ever since the Turtles saved her from an assassination attempt by her former boss, Baxter Stockman, she had become an indispensable member of their makeshift family. Over the years, April functioned as an unofficial mother, sister and, was even Donatello's romantic crush for a time due to their shared interest in science.

The dynamic changed when the Turtles made a new friend of a man named Casey Jones and introduced him to April. While the pair didn't hit it off right away; April being a math and science wiz, Casey an auto mechanic-turned-vigilante, they both eventually started dating, culminating in their wedding five years back. Three years ago, the two welcomed their first child, a daughter they named Shadow.

Having been to her second family's home many times before, April walked around the Turtles' lair with purpose. Wearing a simple pair of jeans, pale yellow tee-shirt, camo jacket, and wedge boots, she made her way toward Splinter's room carrying with her a bag bearing the image of a local veterinary hospital.

As she approached the aged mutant rat's room, her pace slowed slightly, almost imperceptibly. She strained her ears to hear any sign of grief from her friends. Hearing none, she approached the shoji panel that concealed Splinter's bedroom and gave the wooden frame a gentle tap before sliding the panel open and coming in.

Her heart ached to see the looks on her friends' faces: a mix of uneasiness and cheerlessness. While she loved Splinter like family, she knew that her friends, these adopted brothers of hers, might be close to losing the only father they've ever known. They acknowledged her with a round of quiet "hellos".

Donatello stood, and with a swift movement, adjusted his glasses by pushing the bridge up with a single, green finger. The techno-savvy turtle only started to wear frames over the last few years, as his constant interaction with various computer screens began to affect his eyesight. He moved toward her and before he spoke April whispered, "I was able to get the medicines you asked for. The vet was going to give me a hard time about the quantity, so I told him I was a rat breeder. He didn't give me too much trouble after that."

"Thanks, April." Donatello took the bag in April and began fishing through its contents.

April turned to Leonardo who stood to her right, "How is he?"

Leo took a deep breath and his brow furrowed, "We're just waiting now. We hope he'll get better, but he seems to be getting weaker."

A shot of melancholy passed across her delicate features. Words failed her. While everyone knew Splinter was quite advanced in age, no one expected to face the prospect of losing him now. It was always a far-away concept, something to think about later, not today, and not like this.

Raph got up from Splinter's bedside, and moved toward April; Michelangelo quickly taking his place beside their father, adjusting the elderly rat's pillow for optimum comfort. April knew that look in Raphael's eyes: he wanted to take action! After Donatello stabilized their father, Raphael reached out to April for help. He knew his tech-savvy brother would be preoccupied with Splinter so he asked April to research whatever she could find about Bishop and the EPF. Raph already had his sights on payback.

"Well? Have you found anything?" Raphael asked.

The question called Leo's attention.

"Remember a few weeks ago when I mentioned that article on the genetic hybridization breakthrough by Dr. Marius Schneider over dinner with you guys?"

"The guy who thought it'd be a good idea to combine human DNA and alien DNA?"

"Yeah, that guy! Well, in that article I remembered that it mentioned that a lot of his work was funded by the U.S. government."

"Wait…" Leonardo interrupted, "Combining alien and human DNA sounds like-"

"Bishop's super soldier program!" Raph finished, his fiery temper apparent behind his green-gold eyes.

Bishop's name grabbed both the attention of Mikey and Donnie who were attending their resting father.

"Let's talk outside. Splinter needs his rest." Leo motioned for them to step outside of the room.

Once outside in the tunnel, April continued, "Exactly! It sounded just like something right up Bishop's alley! So, I did a little research and found that in every photo journalist's picture taken of Dr. Schneider, going back twelve years, Bishop is in every…single…one! I found him in every picture, lurking in the background like a creepy shadow."

"Did you figure out this Dr. Schneider's connection to Bishop?" Leo asked.

"Yeah. Bishop has been bankrolling Dr. Schneider's work in genetics for about twelve years. So, I tried to dig a bit deeper and found that Bishop takes frequent trips to Dr. Schneider's facility, Curiosum Labs, in England. Plus, I was able to learn that EPF commandos are there for added security for the 'biologically hazardous materials' that are there. And, I learned that the EPF just sent a shipment of 'biologically hazardous materials' there two days ago via government aircraft."

"Anything else?" Raphael asked.

"Sadly, no. That would require an ability to hack into a network that has, apparently, been developed by a highly classified arm of the United States government. As good as I am at hacking into computer systems, that's a bit beyond me."

"But it's not beyond me." The trio turned to see Donatello's lanky yet muscular body in the frame of the shoji panel that concealed his father's room.

"Donnie, are you sure you can-?" Leo began, but Donatello interrupted, "I think Mikey can handle changing bandages and administering antibiotics. If you guys need me to help take down one of Bishop's creature factories, then I'm in."

April studied the brainy turtle for a moment: he was possessed of the gentlest spirit she had ever known. Yet, she could tell that a deep anger was brewing inside him and it stung her heart to see his tender soul moved to thoughts of retribution. She knew that he at one point, had developed romantic feelings for her. She adored him and as such, wished that there was some way that she could grant him the kind of happiness that only a romantic relationship could give. However, she knew that there was nothing that she could do, beyond loving him as a little brother. Without flaunting it in either Donatello's or his brothers' faces, she embraced a romance with Casey. While she was happy with her husband and their daughter, Donatello still held a special place in her heart. She wanted to see him happy. "I'll help you." She said.

Leonardo nodded. "Do it. Let's see what Bishop's been up to in England."

Hours passed before Leonardo heard his bespectacled brother call his name. Leo made his way toward the enclave reserved for Donatello's interconnected computer equipment. He stood behind his brother and April, flanked by a myriad of glowing computer screens. Leo was soon joined by Raphael and Michelangelo who had emerged from their father's room.

"What's up, Donnie?"

"Well, Bishop's been busy in England, that's what's up. April was right, he's been dumping a lot of money into Dr. Schneider's Curiosum Labs over the last twelve years."

"Who is this doctor guy?" Mikey asked

"Dr. Schneider is only the world's foremost mind in genetic editing, genetic experimentation, and hybridization," April stated.

"He's the best at his craft." Donnie added.

"So, if you want the latest 'creature feature', he'd be go-to?" Leonardo stated.

"Exactly. As it so happens, April and I have found out that the last five EPF wannabe super soldiers and Slash were a product of this unholy union between Dr. Schneider and Agent Bishop! Moreover, when these projects of theirs fail, their remains are sent back to Dr. Schneider's lab for further experimentation."

"That guy made Slash?!" Mikey exclaimed.

"Yeah." Donnie answered.

Michelangelo's faced soured, "I hated that ugly excuse for a turtle!"

"I think we all did, Mikey." Leo said.

"Wait, so that shipment of 'biologically hazardous materials' that was sent there a few days ago-" Raph began and April finished, "Those are the remains of that Reaper that injured Splinter!"

Leonardo's brow furrowed, "Anything else?"

Donatello and April exchanged glances, then April spoke up, "I read a few internal emails regarding an 'activation of Project Siren.' Bishop wants to activate it within the next few days."

Leo took a deep breath, "Do we know what 'Project Siren' is?"

Donnie pursed his lips, sighed, then spoke, "That's what worries April and I. We don't know and we can't figure it out."

"It's apparently highly classified." April added.

"So much so, that I think the information is so sensitive that one must be hard wired at Curiosum Labs in order to access it. It's almost as if they've anticipated hackers and as a result, they've opted to keep the information off of the main network: like a fail-safe against cyber-attacks." Donnie finished.

"Wait, they want to activate 'Project Serendipity'…or whatever…within the next few days?" Mikey asked.

"Project Siren." Donnie corrected, and April nodded. To which, Michelangelo groaned, "Man! We can't get a freakin' break!"

"I say, we go pay a visit to that lab and knock a few heads off!" Raph growled.

Leo folded his arms over his massive chest, "I don't like rushing into a situation when I don't know all of the potential angles, but I think you've got a point, Raph." He unfolded his arms and looked to each of his brothers, "If they're going to send another one of Bishop's pets our way, then I say we save them the trouble of buying the airfare. We take the fight to them and shut down that lab!" His brothers nodded and he turned his sapphire gaze toward April, "Would you-"

"You don't even have to ask. I'll look after Splinter while you guys are gone. I'll just give Casey a call to let him know."

Donatello turned to her, "Call us if there's any change." She nodded.

"Alright. Then we do this and we do it quickly! The last thing we can afford is another fight with one of Bishop's experiments while Master Splinter is in his condition." Leo stated.

"I'm gonna kill 'em, Leo!" Raph grumbled.

Leo placed a hand on his brother's shoulder, "I understand, Raph. Bishop and the EPF will get theirs! First, we shut down that lab. Then, we're back here to look after Splinter until…"Leonardo paused for a heartbeat, unable to bring himself to say the words, "…until." He finished. Leo paused again, then met his brother's eyes: his gaze mirroring the flicker of vengeance he saw inside Raphael. "After Splinter…I promise you, we'll bring the pain. But right now, we gear up. We're heading to jolly old England."


	3. Chapter 3

London, England

8:00 AM

Sarah Pomfret had always been uncomfortable with her life as an adult film star. It was a far cry from the life of a respectable historian that she had desired since childhood. Yet, as the story goes, she got into financial trouble during her years at university and was convinced that she would do just a couple of films, get out of debt, and get back to a normal life. However, as it turned out, a couple of films turned into a half dozen and before she knew it, she was highly sought after. Sarah's youthful features that belied her age, coupled with long, silken, blonde hair that was reminiscent of spun gold, earned her the name of "Honey" or "Honey Pot". It was said that no one could surpass her ability to seduce a man. Sarah frankly, had an uncanny ability to entice both bodies and minds. To Sarah, her skills in temptation were a natural product of her love of history.

Sarah had long ago delved into the secretive world of the courtesan, a sort of top-tier in the hierarchy of prostitutes for royal courts during medieval and Renaissance Europe. She was enthralled by the stories of women who took their lives into their own hands, becoming the mistresses of high ranking court officials during an age when women were only mothers or daughters. She read the stories of women who used their feminine wiles to beguile and enchant powerful men so that they could break free of the often hard lives of the women around them. It was fortuitous that Sarah was able to take what she read and apply it to her new profession.

While her popularity in the adult film industry increased, her dissatisfaction with her life did as well. She was miles away from where she wanted to be in her life. She wanted to spend her days with the long-dead people she read about in history books and yet, she was learning about techniques for physical and mental seduction in order to incorporate it into her next film. It was that dissatisfaction mixed with pure curiosity, that lead her to answer an email sent from Curiosum Labs, offering her a job.

She remembered sitting across from Dr. Eric Bajek at the Ye Olde Cheshire Cheese Pub eleven years ago. Dr. Bajek was a man in his early forties with short, curly, dull blonde hair that was starting to gray and steely gray eyes. He was one of the top genetic scientists at Curiosum Labs and worked closely with the world-famous Dr. Marius Schneider.

"I have to admit, I'm curious. But I don't understand, Dr. Bajek…" Sarah started, her Scouse accent pegging her as a Liverpool native. "What would a genetics laboratory want with someone like me?"

"Actually my dear, it's right up your alley. You have an incredible talent for being able to seduce men on screen. Not just the men you work with, but those who watch your films are captivated by you. We're hoping you'll be able to tutor someone in those skills…for an experiment."

The money that was offered to her was enough for her to leave the world of adult films behind. All she had to do was teach what she learned. So, she naturally agreed to work for Curiosum Labs, seeing it as a way to leave her old life behind and embrace a new one. What she didn't realize when she signed her contract and non-disclosure agreement, was that she would be teaching the arts of seduction to a strange, human-turtle-alien chimera, working for a highly classified venture called Project Siren. Soon after signing her contract, Dr. Eric Bajek mysteriously left Curiosum Labs. No one knew where or why he left. That strange disappearance, coupled with seeing the small creature, she almost quit right there and then. Yet, it was the intervention of Dr. Marius Schneider himself that stopped her.

Dr. Schneider took her aside and explained what it was they were doing and how important it was. Training the creature called Sonseeahray in the arts of temptation was the best contingency plan that they had in order to destroy four mutant turtles. Once the Turtles were killed, their biology could be used for further experimentation. Plus, they would be out of the way so their ability to create super soldiers that will save future lives when the next alien invasion occurs, would go unhindered.

Sarah stayed on and got to work, doing exactly what she was contracted to do: imparting all of the knowledge that she absorbed over the years in the seductive arts to Sonseeahray. However, as the years passed, Sarah began to see her not as a creature that was created in a lab, but a being who was self-aware and possessed of her own agency. As such, she began to teach her about making choices for herself, which lead to a reprimand from some of Dr. Schneider's fellow scientists who viewed it as "sabotage" of their project. While Dr. Schneider himself, doubtlessly influenced by his feelings for her, refused to get angry and instead chose to reiterate the purpose of Project Siren.

Sarah found one ally within the team of scientists in the person of Dr. Kushala Gouyen. Between the two of them, they did whatever they could under the circumstances to nurture Sonseeahray properly, challenging authority when and wherever possible. She only feared it wouldn't be enough. For all the years she spent admiring the courtesans she read about in books, she was afraid she was still robbing Sonseeahray of her ability to make her own choices about her life.

On this day, she looked at Sonseeahray as the twelve-year-old stood before her. The heterochromia iridium of Sonseeahray's eyes was still striking. No matter how many times Sarah looked upon Sonseeahray's porcelain face, her gaze was stunning: the child's left eye was hazel, in which the bottom half of the iris possessed flecks of green and blue, while her right eye was like a bright blue sapphire.

"Miss Pomfret, you seem to be a bit distracted." Sonseeahray said with a smile that flashed her fangs. The young chimera spoke with an RP British accent.

"My apologies, dear." Sarah smiled back, taking the banana from the girl. "I do have a lot on my mind lately."

At twelve, Sonseeahray was still a tad diminutive, barely reaching five feet in height. She could possibly expect to get a bit taller, but not by much. This, Marius once told Sarah, was because they wanted Sonseeahray, visually, to be physically unimposing. While she had no hair on her head, she did possess very thin, wispy, white-blonde eyebrows that nearly disappeared against the pale creaminess of her soft skin. Her facial features were small and delicate, contrasting against large, dual-colored eyes and lips that were full with a natural pout. Sonseeahray's brown carapace was also slight in size, clinging close to her frame, only slightly perceptible under her laboratory gown. However, her carapace was a bit harder in comparison to her dark yellow plastron, which was more like a hard leather. Only two of Sonseeahray's attributes hinted that she might be dangerous: she possessed fangs, and a sharp claw that could shred both cloth and flesh, on each of her ten fingers.

Looking at the chimera in front of her, Sarah would always be amazed by the fact that Sonseeahray's inhuman appearance did nothing to diminish her loveliness; a loveliness that would only increase as she matured. It was a shame, she thought. Any offspring that Sonseeahray could have produced, though perhaps retaining some of the more turtle-like aspects of her appearance, would have been beautiful. However, Agent Bishop and Curiosum Labs made sure a long time ago that Sonseeahray was sterilized. To her knowledge, no one had ever told the girl of that fact, and Sarah couldn't bring herself to do it now.

"Perhaps the rest of this lesson can wait for another day, then?" Sonseeahray smiled, flashing fangs.

Sarah straightened, "Alright. We'll finish up that lesson some other time." She turned to the scientists and EPF commandos who stood behind her. "I think that's enough for now, gentleman. Can we please escort our little siren back to her room, please?"

The men nodded, but before they could move, the reinforced glass door to the room opened with a soft, "swoosh" and both Dr. Schneider and Dr. Gouyen entered.

Sarah turned and smiled at Marius and Dr. Gouyen. Dr. Schneider smiled back, his happiness tempered by the news that he had just received regarding project Slash. He tried to compartmentalize the morning's events, focusing instead on the beautiful woman before him and the ring in his pocket. "Good morning, my dear."

Sonseeahray, upon seeing Dr. Gouyen, could barely contain her happiness. "Dr. Gouyen!" In response, Dr. Gouyen rushed to the young chimera with open arms, "Come here, pretty girl!" Her arms enveloped the small creature like a mother would a child.

Dr. Schneider could barely conceal his displeasure with the public display of affection for the creature they created. Seeing it, Sarah whispered to him, "Let the girl have some thought of family, Marius." He turned his attention back to Sarah, and in a hushed tone, he stated, "Darling, both you and Dr. Gouyen have to stop this. She is not a child, nor a family member. She is a scientific project and frankly, a biological weapon." He sighed, "I fear that it will hurt the two of you more down the line should something unforeseen happen, if you do not understand this."

Sarah nodded absently.

"Have you two finished your lessons for now?" Dr. Schneider asked.

Sarah and Sonseeahray exchanged a quick glance, "Yes, sir." The chimera stated as Dr. Gouyen released her from a hug.

"Good." Dr. Schneider turned to the scientists and EPF commandos, "Take Sonseeahray back to her room."

"I'll go with them." Dr. Gouyen added. With that, she held out her hand to the small chimera, who promptly took it. The two of them followed the scientists and the commandos out into the hallway and disappeared from sight.

Turning back toward Sarah, Marius held out his hand with a smile, "Come on, darling. Let's forget about work for just a few moments. There's something that I'd like to discuss with you."

Sarah took his hand in hers and walked with him out of the room. "Of course. What do you want to discuss?"

He stopped and turned to her, "How would you feel about being Mrs. Marius Schneider?"

At the other end of the hallway, Dr. Gouyen punched a four-digit code into a keypad by the reinforced glass door that marked the entry for Sonseeahray's room and the door opened. A small plate hung to the right side with both the chimera's given name and her project designation: 145-486 EB.

Before entering into the large room, where a few of her drawings and astronomy posters hung on the wall next to her bed, Sonseeahray turned around and gazed down the hall toward Dr. Schneider and Miss Pomfret. Dr. Gouyen, curious as to what the young child was looking at, turned as well, only to see Dr. Schneider get down on one knee before Miss Pomfret. Dr. Gouyen smiled.

"What are they doing, Dr. Gouyen?" Sonseeahray asked, seeing the doctor's happiness.

"I believe Dr. Schneider just asked Miss Pomfret to marry him!" Dr. Gouyen said with a chuckle, turning toward the diminutive creature.

"They're going to be married? That's wonderful!" Sonseeahray exclaimed as Dr. Gouyen ushered her into her room, the reinforced glass door closing behind them. The two scientists who had followed them from the other room turned and walked down the hall, typing away at their iPads, while the two EPF commandos remained stationed outside, flanking the doorway to the room.

"Dr. Gouyen," Sonseeahray started, hopping onto her bed, "Do you suppose I'll ever be married?"

"I don't know, pretty girl." Dr. Gouyen sat down beside her on the pink bedspread. She stroked the girl's head tenderly like a mother would a beloved daughter. "I can hardly think of anyone who would deserve you. But I suppose a special person is out there somewhere."

Sonseeahray turned to face Dr. Gouyen, pulling her knees to her chest, "I hope so. I was thinking after I get rid of those turtles that Dr. Schneider and Agent Bishop keep talking about, I would very much like to be married and become a mum." She smiled softly. "Sort of like the kind of mum you are with your daughters; baking biscuits and making jewelry together!"

She didn't allow her face to betray her emotions. She knew that Sonseeahray was sterile. That was taken care of shortly before she was brought onto Project Siren. She gazed at the creature before her for a heartbeat. Dr. Gouyen's heart broke. Somehow, she saw one of her own daughters in Sonseeahray then: a young girl with a dream of a fairytale wedding and a happily ever after. Yet it was a dream that was never going to come true for the chimera in front of her. At least, not if Agent Bishop had his way.

Shaking off the thought, she smiled. "Speaking of jewelry…" Dr. Gouyen pulled a small bracelet out of her pocket and wrapped it around the young girl's wrist. Sonseeahray starred at the bracelet for a moment, transfixed at the brilliant sparkle of the beads.

"My daughter Tia made it for you. It's just made from beads you can find at a crafts store…not the diamonds you adore so much, but I think those will do." Dr. Gouyen said with a wink. For years, she knew of Sonseeahray's fascination with jewels, and diamonds in particular. She once heard the young chimera say that the silver-white sparkle of the gems reminded her of starlight. If Dr. Gouyen didn't know better, she would say that somehow the glitter of diamonds triggered some sort of genetic memory of a life among the stars within the alien DNA the girl possessed.

"Oh, thank you so much!" Sonseeahray embraced Dr. Gouyen enthusiastically, face beaming with joy. "Tell your daughter, thank you!"

Dr. Gouyen chuckled, hugging the girl warmly, "You're welcome, pretty girl!" She pulled back from the hug and cupped the girl's delicate chin in her hand. She leaned forward slightly and whispered, "Remember what I've told you?"

Sonseeahray nodded and smiled, enjoying their small conspiracy. She repeated the words she heard Dr. Gouyen repeat time and again in a hushed tone, "I don't have to do anything I don't want to do. Pay attention to what they teach, but my body is a gift to give to whomever I choose."

"Exactly. Don't ever forget that!"

A tapping came at the reinforced glass door. Both Sonseeahray and Dr. Gouyen turned to see a scientist by the name of Dr. Myles Cardwell at the glass. He was one of the younger scientists on the Project Siren team. As such, he tended to be a bit cocky, yet, he was relatively well-liked among his colleagues. He at least had the mind to back up his attitude. His brown hair was cut short, his dark brown eyes were covered by frames that were slightly tinted. His tall, muscular build was hidden behind his lab coat. He motioned for Dr. Gouyen to come with him.

"I better get going, Sonseeahray." She gave the chimera another hug before standing up. "Besides, your martial arts instructor should be here soon to train you."

The small chimera nodded absently before changing the subject. "What are you going to be working on today?" Sonseeahray asked, moving toward her nightstand and picking up a large book on astronomy that laid there.

Dr. Gouyen stood at the door to the room. Turning, she said, "Well, I'm going to check on your latest charts, and then I'll help Dr. Cardwell here grab a few samples from Project Slash downstairs."

At the mention of Slash's name, Sonseeahray's face soured, "Do be careful, Dr. Gouyen! I hear he is ever so mean! He hurts people whenever he can!" While she had never met Slash face to face, she was well aware of his presence. He was notorious for his violent outbursts among the staff of Curiosum Labs. The fear that everyone possessed of Slash was palatable. Sonseeahray understood that around Slash, one must always be on their guard.

Dr. Gouyen smiled, "It's okay, pretty girl. Slash's sickness took his life today. There's nothing to be afraid of anymore." Yet, even as she said those words, she had a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. Why was it that there was a part of her that was unconvinced of her own words? She pushed the question out of her mind and left with Dr. Cardwell.


	4. Chapter 4

_14 hours earlier…_

 _London, England_

 _6:34 PM_

Winter's chill still clung to the wind on this spring evening. The man pulled his trench coat closer around himself to ward off the crisp air. The street laps illuminated various people crowding the sidewalk: a young family enjoying the night, a couple doubtlessly on their way to take in the blockbuster at Odeon Cinema Leicester Square, and a group of friends laughing at some in-joke. He almost envied them. They all seemed so oblivious to the burden he bore on his shoulders. He knew that others had experienced, and were experiencing the stress he felt, but he still felt so isolated from the rest of humanity.

He felt like the legendary figure, Sisyphus: the sinner condemned to roll a boulder uphill in Tartarus only to watch it roll back down again. What he needed was a plan, a way to get out from under the boulder of stress he was constantly hefting uphill. Six months ago, his mother was diagnosed with a rare and aggressive cancer. Her chances of survival were grim. Her only hope was to undergo an experimental treatment in America under the expertise of oncologist, Dr. Riya Patel. But that was far too expensive for his family. He was only a lowly lab tech, fresh out of university. True, he was working at the world-renowned Curiosum Labs, but he was many years off from working his way up the ladder to earn a salary that would alleviate his current problems.

Over the months, he watched as the strong woman he knew, the one who worked two jobs to keep a roof over their heads after his father left, become weaker. Soon, she was unable to work at either the convenience store or at the Hippodrome Casino. Not too long after, she was bound to a wheelchair. Her features that once, seemed to defy age, descended back to the harshness of reality. Her once plump figure, that personified a hard life, but a life that was filled with joy withered away to a near-skeletal form. He cried many nights in the privacy of his room, coming face-to-face with the reality that he would soon have to say goodbye to his mum and best friend, and also feeling helpless to stop the inevitable from happening.

He finally found his answer a month ago when he was contacted by Dr. Eric Bajek. The mysteriously disappearing scientist had reappeared in his life and not a moment too soon. Dr. Bajek offered him a chance to change the fortunes of him and his mother. If all went according to plan, he would have enough money to fly his mother to America and get her the experimental cancer treatment she needed. Sure, he was told success would be a long shot, but he had to try. His mother was all he had in this world and Richard Wallace swore to do whatever he could do to help her.

So lost was Richard in his own thoughts that he bumped into a blonde woman, nearly knocking her off her high-heels. Richard didn't stop to apologize. He quickened his pace as he heard the woman yell at him, calling him a "potato-headed minger". He didn't care. Richard had bigger problems to worry about. He was on his way to an important meeting and he couldn't be late, even if that meant not apologizing for bumping into a pretty blonde woman on the street.

He quickened his pace to where he was just short of a jog, passing Mc Donald's on Fleet Street and turning onto Paternoster Row. He was so close to St. Paul's Cathedral that if he were a tourist, he could have easily stopped and taken in the historical site. As he made his way past the grounds on which the impressive building stood, Richard took a moment to glance at the edifice and its intricate combination of Neoclassic, Gothic and Baroque elements. He couldn't help but smile. He loved his city. There was so much rich and beautiful history to his little gray, island home. According to some historians, it is rumored that the original cathedral was built upon the ruins of a Roman temple dedicated to Diana. He wasn't sure if that was true, but he thought if it was, surely Dr. Marius Schneider himself would have loved to come here. All of the staff at Curiosum Labs were well aware of their employer's love for ancient Greek and Roman myths.

Richard approached the doors to Paternoster Chop House and paused his hand hovering at the door. Was he really going to do this? Before he could question himself further, images of his mother swirled into his mind: his mother weakly smiling as she sat in a doctor's chair, taking a dose of chemotherapy that both of them knew wasn't going to do much to cure her. Then, another thought of his mother's frail body bent over the toilet as she vomited up what little dinner she was able to stomach. No, he had to go through with it. His mother's life depended on it.

Richard set his jaw and pushed the door open. The restaurant was packed with families, a few scattered romantic couples and groups of friends. It wasn't long before he found the man who he was to meet, sitting alone at a table in the back, sipping a cold beer. Dr. Eric Bajek looked up from the menu he held in his hand and waved Richard over to join him. Richard weaved his way around the crowded room until he was standing beside the table where Dr. Bajek sat, still absently looking over the menu.

"Dr. Bajek…" Richard began, extending his hand.

The older man looked up, his gray eyes peering at the younger man through wire-rimmed glasses. He quickly took Richard's hand, gave it a quick shake and motioned for him to sit down. "No need for all of that, kid." Dr. Bajek mused as Richard took off his coat and sat across from him. "Gotta love you Brits and your manners, though…even if it does tend to take up a bit too much time!" Dr. Bajek's Midwestern American accent stood in stark contrast to Richard's own Estuary English accent.

Richard examined Dr. Bajek for a moment, trying to decide whether or not the older man was joking or not. He wiped sweaty palms on his trousers and did his best to lighten his own mood, "Perhaps, but a lot could also be said about you Americans and your lack of manners." Richard grinned, hoping that Dr. Bajek would pick up on the light jab.

Dr. Bajek shrugged, "What can I say, we've been a rebellious sort of people from the start."

"Oh, a Revolutionary War reference, is it? Fair enough. It's not like we British don't ever hear anything like that from you Americans, ever."

Dr. Bajek chuckled, "Now, that's what I do like about the British: your sense of humor!" He handed Richard a menu, "Get whatever you want, kid. I'm buying."

Richard wasn't too fond of Dr. Bajek's habit of calling him "kid", but if the older gentleman was going to pay him the amount of money he said he would, Richard determined that Dr. Bajek could call him a "tosser" for all he cared. Besides, he just had to complete a job and it would be the last he heard of the man calling him "kid".

Richard raked a nervous hand through his dark brown locks which he kept short on the sides, but a bit longer on the top. "I'm not terribly hungry, I'm afraid. I could use a drink, though." He looked over the menu, almost as if it were a formality. When the waiter appeared, they placed their orders: Dr. Bajek a steak and Richard, a pint from a local craft brewery.

The two men sat in silence for a moment before Richard spoke up, "May I ask you a question, sir?"

Dr. Bajek took a swig from his beer, "Shoot."

"Why me?"

"Come again?"

"You know, why me? Out of everyone who works at Curiosum Labs, you chose to contact me. Why?"

"Oh. Sure." Dr. Bajek took another swig from his beer and looked Richard squarely in the eyes, "Because my employer determined that you could be…properly motivated."

"What do you mean?"

"It means, your mother is ill. You need the means by which to get her to America. We can provide that…provided that you fulfill your end of our bargain."

Richard nodded absently. He understood what was being said, even if he wasn't too keen on the idea that out of everyone at Curiosum Labs, he was apparently the only one who could have been "properly motivated". Yet, the desperate situation he found himself in logically meant that someone could either help him or take advantage of his desperation should they have the mind to. Richard wasn't sure which of those Dr. Bajek's new employer fell under, but he was leaning toward the latter.

Previously, Richard asked about the circumstances of Dr. Bajek's "disappearance" from Curiosum Labs and the specifics about his new employer, neither of which Dr. Bajek answered. In fact, Dr. Bajek explicitly stated that he was not to inquire about the identity of his new employer at all. The waiter brought them their order, asked if they needed anything else and when the two stated that they were fine, the waiter promptly left them alone to continue their conversation.

"I know that I'm not to ask about your employer, which is fair. But, be that as it may, I must ask if he truly understands what he's asking for?" Richard asked nervously.

Dr. Bajek looked up from his steak, cocking an eyebrow. "Kid, who better to help my employer understand the ramifications of freeing Slash, than myself? I was there when they brought that bloodthirsty monster to Curiosum Labs. I was the head of the team that cared for Slash for years, reporting daily to Marius himself until Project Siren was undertaken, at which point my responsibilities shifted to that abominable little whore..." He cut another piece of steak, chewed it and swallowed. "Trust me. He knows."

If the thought of freeing Slash bothered Richard before, he had a sinking feeling about it now. Had Dr. Bajek's new employer been unaware of the risk involved in releasing Slash, that would at least be understandable. But the mystery man knew of risks and wanted to pursue them anyway. That was chilling in a way that Richard had never known. He grasped the cold pint of beer before him and gulped down several mouthfuls, polishing off half the mug before coming up for air.

Dr. Bajek continued speaking between mouthfuls of steak without glancing at his guest. "Hell, I even tried to advise him against it. I told him what happened in New York City a little over a decade ago when Slash was first unleashed upon those mutant turtle freaks. Things were going OK for a time until the alien DNA in his system started to react quite poorly with the neural pathways in his brain. He wanted to die and take as many people as he could with him. To this day, I'm still not entirely sure how that monster got his hands on a suitcase nuke, but that cunning bastard did it! If it wasn't for those freak turtle-ninjas, N-Y-C would've been a crater on the map of the US!"

Richard had heard the rumors, but he thought they were just that: rumors. Rumors created in order to turn a crazed and scary creature into a thing of nightmares. But it was true. All of it. He stared blankly into his mug, watching the golden, carbonated liquid for a moment. "And your employer wants to risk setting that loose onto the general population again..." Richard whispered. He could barely hear his own voice over the din of the crowd around him.

The crowd. Those innocent people.

They had no idea that Richard and the man across from him were talking about setting free a mind and monster that was at once, bloodthirsty and cunning. Richard scanned the oblivious faces around him. Parents with their children, lovers huddled together in booths, friends sharing a laugh. What if Slash got his hands upon a suitcase nuke in London? He shivered.

Dr. Bajek's voice called his attention back to his table, "He does want to set Slash loose. But, he thinks that he can reign in the mind of that beast." He took a swig from his beer. "I hope he's right. For all of our sakes." Dr. Bajek sighed and looked at Richard. The kid was fresh out of college, though, he looked like he was still in high school (or was that called "secondary school" here in England, he wondered.) Either way, the kid was visibly shaken. He didn't blame him, either. Slash was not a creature you decided to set free lightly. He reached into the messenger bag that he placed in the empty seat beside him and pulled out a sleek black box, no bigger than the size of a cell phone. He handed it across the table to Richard.

Richard meekly took the box and slowly opened it, revealing the contents. Inside, he found one syringe; the hypodermic needle covered by a blue cap. He closed the lid, focusing his gaze on the man sitting across from him. "So I just...switch one of Slash's regular injections out with this thing?"

"That's it."

Richard sighed, "And what will this do, exactly?"

Dr. Bajek finished chewing another mouthful before he answered, "Well, for all intents and purposes, it'll make Slash look like he's dead. All tests run to confirm that, will confirm it. At which point, should all go according to protocol, which it should, they will move him out of the more densely secured section of Hades, to the more loosely secured part, known as the morgue. After that...Slash will doubtlessly take care of the rest." He took another drink from his beer before finishing, "Which is why I highly suggest that once you make the switch, you go home sick or something and get as far from there as you can."

Richard fidgeted, "Are people going to die, Dr. Bajek?"

The older man sighed. Leaning back in his chair, he crossed his arms over his chest and closed his eyes for a brief moment. When he opened them, he voice was soft, "I wish I could lie to you and say, no. But...possibly, there will be some loss of life. We're talking about Slash here. However, the drug cocktail that my employer was able to concoct for that injection," he motioned toward the black box in Richard's hands, "...will theoretically last long enough where the vast majority of your coworkers should have left for the day."

"Theoretically?"

"Well, yes. There's a bit of a shortage of monstrous half-turtle-half-alien hybrids to test the stuff on."

"What if it doesn't work?"

"That's entirely possible. But considering the combined intellect and expertise of both myself and my employer, I think you have plenty of good reasons to trust that it will." Dr. Bajek leaned forward, "Look, kid, I get you're nervous. All we're asking you is to switch out one little syringe. Then you go home. You'll find the money in your account within 24 hours. Plus, to sweeten the deal for you, my employer has promised that he would personally pull some strings and make sure your mother has an appointment with Dr. Patel herself, in order to ensure that she has access to that experimental treatment she desperately needs."

"He-he'd do that for my mum?"

The look on Dr. Bajek's face was hard to place. It was somewhere between admiration and fear, "For better or worse...my employer always keeps his promises."

Richard's attention returned to the sleek, black box in his hand. All he had to do was switch out one stinking syringe and walk away. That was it. And then, he and his mum were free to get the experimental treatment she needed from oncologist Dr. Patel in America. His mind lurched with memories of his youth, thoughts of his mother taking care of him, doing whatever needed to be done to make sure his needs were met. After his dad left, it was just the two of them. She put him before her own needs time and again, making sure he wanted for nothing and lacked no love in his life in spite of missing a father-figure. He couldn't turn his back on his mum now, not when it was his turn to take care of her and do whatever it was that he could to make sure her needs were met. Richard grabbed his mug of beer and downed the remainder of its contents, "Alright. I'll do it. Just make sure your boss makes that appointment with Dr. Patel."

Dr. Bajek smiled, "Consider it done, kid."


	5. Chapter 5

_Somewhere above the Atlantic Ocean_

 _3:34 PM_

"How do you guys think Splinter is doing right now?" Michelangelo asked quietly as the cargo airliner left New York City's LaGuardia airport. Its destination: London's Heathrow airport. The airliner shot across the sky at thirty-two thousand feet above the Atlantic Ocean. If there were windows in the cargo hold, the sight would be stunning: the plane was caught between a sky that the receding sun painted with a mix of color: dark blues, purples, and oranges, peppered with puffy clouds, and an ocean below that stretched out like an inky canvas as far as the eye can see.

The jet's holding space was dark; illuminated only by a few dim lights along the floor, and down the center of the plane, above. Hidden among the boxes, were the Turtles.

Donatello sighed deeply, "Probably no better and no worse than when we left him."

"April will call us if there is any significant change. Right now, we can reasonably assume that he's resting." Leonardo said.

Raphael spun around suddenly, throwing his full weight behind a punch he directed at one of the many wooden crates surrounding them: it exploded with a loud crash, wooden debris filling the space around them! "Oh, I cannot wait to trash the joint where Bishop is paying the bills!" He growled.

"Info first, trashing second, Raph." Donnie said. "I've brought along enough C4 to level the building. You guys just set the explosives where I showed you. I downloaded the building schematics to your Shell Cells as a backup. By the time we arrive, it should be evening: the vast majority of innocent personnel should be gone for the day, leaving the chance for collateral injuries to a minimum."

The four brothers nodded silently.

"Guys?" Mikey asked, changing the subject, "Why is it that, after all, we've been through; kickin' Shredder's tin can, defeating the Triceratons, fighting Bishop's mutant turtle and wannabe super soldiers: we still can't figure out a better mode of air travel? Can't we get, like, a 'Turtle Jet', or something?" Mikey shot a glance at his brother, Donatello.

"Hey, if you can find a place in the sewer to store a jet, I'd be happy to customize it for us." Donatello answered, pushing the taped bridge of his glasses up with a single, green finger. Donnie grimaced. Yet, he couldn't blame his younger brother for the sourness of his mood. They all had been on edge since the last time they faced Bishop.

"How much longer, Donnie?" Raphael asked, interrupting his siblings.

One of Donatello's three-fingered hands punched a couple of buttons on an electronic device he wore on his arm. A small camera, one mounted on each of his shoulders lit up, projecting a virtual computer screen into the air before him. With the bright colors illuminating the space they occupied, Donatello could fully interact with the virtual screen with a gentle touch of his hands, "We have another three hours." Another tap of a button and the screen disappeared.

"Three more hours?!" Mikey complained. "I'm so bored! I don't even have my Game Boy."

"Fellas, can we focus?" Leonardo stated. "This isn't a vacation. We have a mission to accomplish and I need you guys to be on your A-game. We have three more hours to get our heads into the mission. Curiosum Labs is a highly secured genetics laboratory that's bankrolled by Bishop's EPF! We have to be ready for anything."

Donatello called up his virtual computer screen once again from the device on his forearm, "According to the building schematics and the security system I've been able to hack into, there's a heavily guarded, digitally locked, refrigerated storage chamber in an ante-laboratory on the seventh floor. That's most likely where most of the experimental specimens are being held."

"Can you crack the lock?" Raph asked.

"It will be difficult. They change the digital combination every hour-"

"You can do it, bro!" Mikey said, standing up.

"We'll shut down whatever it is that they're cooking in there." Leo stated with a nod. "Donnie, have you been able to find out anything else about Curiosum Labs?" He turned to his bespectacled brother.

Donnie shook his head, "All I've been able to learn is that the basement of the facility is referred to as 'Hades' by the employees there…and probably for good reason! The security is tripled: armed guards, reinforced steel doors, digital locking mechanisms, thermo-guided laser defenses...the works! Whatever they have down there, they've spared no expense to make sure it never gets out."

"Maybe it's that 'Project Serendipity'…or whatever." Mikey offered.

"Siren, Mikey. It's 'Project Siren'." Donnie corrected.

"Well, whatever it is, let's just make sure that whatever's in Hades, stays in Hades." Raph stated.

"I agree, Raph. But, if Bishop is bankrolling Curiosum Labs, we have a vested interest in trying to figure out what he's up to and stopping it. The more we know about his next creature feature the better." Leo stated. "Donnie, when we get there, disable their security, crack the digital lock, and do whatever you have to do in the time we have to get as much information on what they were doing there as you can. We'll handle the rest."

Donatello nodded. "I was thinking though, ancient myths aren't really my forte, but I do recall that sirens were in the book, The Odyssey. According to ancient Greek myths, sirens were sea creatures that lured sailors to their deaths with enchanting music-" Before he could finish his thought he was interrupted.

"Wait…so did they, like, create a musical theater student or something? Man, if so, watch out for those Broadway numbers and jazz hands, they'll be a doozy!" Mikey cracked.

"We'll be sure to avoid any music if we hear it, Mikey." Raph stated, ignoring his little brother's joke.

"Whatever it is, I doubt it has anything to do with music. This is Bishop we're talking about." Leo stated.

His brothers nodded silently. They appreciated their youngest brother's desire to ease the tension in stressful situations with humor. Hell, it helped them pull through many harrowing life-or-death situations. But a bad joke was still a bad joke.

The quartet stood for a moment in stillness. The idea of racing against time began to envelop them like an oppressive shroud. It was a difficult decision to leave Splinter's side, especially in his weakened state. However, if Bishop was going to send yet another attack their way, they determined that it would be to their advantage to take the fight to the very facility Bishop was going to ship the creature from. They didn't want to risk another confrontation on their turf with Splinter in his tenuous condition.

Leonardo broke the silence, "Let's do this for Master Splinter." He outstretched his hand and one by one, each of his three brothers took it.

A devilish grin pulled at the corners of Raphael's mouth, "No one hurts this family without expecting payback!"


	6. Chapter 6

_London, England_

 _6:05 PM_

The winds across England had picked up. Strong, gusty blasts of air caressed the landscape, causing a sharp chill to marry itself to the wind and the light drizzle from the skies to pelt anyone caught without an umbrella like a thousand tiny stones. Not that an umbrella would do much good in that wind. Many were turned inside out, to the dismay of their owners.

It was that blustery wind that caused the cargo jet's descent into Heathrow Airport to be a bit rocky. Were it not for the fact that contents that were being shipped were strapped down, they would have shifted all over the expanse of the jet's interior. For four, large mutant turtles, however, there was a different story. At first, the brothers were jostled around: Mikey was sent stumbling into a large crate, hitting his elbow. "What the-?! Aren't pretty flight attendants supposed to warn us of turbulence?" He complained.

"Not in here. Not for us." Raph grunted, catching himself before he was tossed into an antique Harley motorcycle that was expertly secured. Raph was thankful that he didn't crash into the machine. He had always loved motorcycles.

The jet lurched downward sharply, then, plateaued once again. The quick movement caused their stomachs to leap into their chests, the brothers steadied themselves against shipment boxes and wooden crates.

Before anyone could ask, Donnie, leaning against a stack of brown, cardboard boxes, tapping the device on his right forearm, causing the colorful, virtual screen to come alive before him. With a couple more taps on the device, the colors on the screen shifted, changing the information before him. Donnie scanned it quickly then offered, "Gusty winds."

"Meaning-" Leo stated, "Strap in guys, it's gonna be a bumpy descent."

"Yeah, no kidding!" Mikey said sarcastically as he rubbed his elbow.

Some more jostling and sharp dips and the cargo jet landed safely. After a few moments, the aircraft taxied down the runway and came to a stop near the cargo terminal. Their ninja training allowed them to remain unseen when then the door to the cargo hold was opened. The turtles slipped silently past the crew working to unload the boxes, crates, and that antique motorcycle. They became one with the shadows as night crept upon the island. Moving quickly, the four turtles made their way to a back lot where several cars were parked, their skin and shells picking up a wet sheen from the misty rain.

Leonardo's eyes zeroed in on what appeared to be an old, gray-green van that was windowless, save only for the front of the vehicle. Leo motioned toward the van silently with his fingers.

"Alright! Let's jack it!" Mikey whispered with a smile.

"Borrow, Mikey. We're borrowing it! We're not 'jacking' it!" Leo hissed.

"Well, technically," Donatello interjected, "We are borrowing it without permission…temporarily. Which is to say, we're still jacking it."

Leo shot his bespectacled brother an unamused look. Small droplets of water began to form on the lenses of his brother's glasses.

Raph shrugged, "I mean, we do jack things from time to time. Remember when we jacked Lord Zanramon's space cruiser?" He chuckled softly, relishing the memory. "He was pissed!"

"We jacked it twice!" Mikey giggled.

Three of the siblings chuckled together, relishing the memory.

Leonardo bit his lower lip, forcing himself to stifle a chuckle. He recalled the look on Zanramon's face when he and his brothers stole his private ship. It was funny. Yet, instead of allowing himself to reminisce about their past adventures, he recalled his brothers to their present mission, "Can we stop talking about jacking Triceraton space cruisers and focus, please?"

The ninjas slyly made their way to the van that Leonardo singled out. When they reached it, they were able to see that the old Dodge Ram Van was pockmarked with rust. The gray-green paint was cracked and peeling and there were old dents that marred the side of the jalopy. The automobile had clearly been on the road for years while its proper owner did little to care for it.

Peering inside, the front seats were worn and filthy. A thick layer of dust covered the dash and the center console. An open can of some kind of soda sitting in a crusted cup holder. Donatello pointed to a flashing red light on the dashboard. "Alarm system. I'm on it." Without prompting, he slid underneath the automobile and went to work disabling the alarm.

"An alarm system?" Raphael was incredulous, "Who'd wanna swipe this rust bucket?!"

"Us. Clearly." Mikey stated, sarcasm dripping from each syllable.

As Donnie went to work, Leo, Raph and Mikey, single-file, remained low and in the shadows of the surrounding vehicles. The wind pulling at their quickly dampening clothes.

"Did you have to pick a van that looked so…kidnapper-y?" Michelangelo glowered. "We're gonna look like the 'Mutant Ninja Creepers' in this thing!"

Raphael glared at his little brother, "Bro! Can you stop?! You've been complaining this whole trip!" he spat. He turned toward Leo, expression softening, "It does look pretty creeper-ish, though."

Leo sighed heavily. "Guys, we're ninjas! We're supposed to remain inconspicuous! What do you want? You want us to steal a Ferrari?"

Michelangelo peered around Raphael's shoulder, "It'd be nice…" He whispered with a grin. "Ya know, bust up that lab, and cruise around London…maybe pick up some hot British chicks!" He glanced toward Raph, "Their accent is pretty hot, yo!" He chuckled, then added in a poor impersonation of a British accent, "I will sit upon the Iron Throne!"

An icy blast of wind gusted over the trio crouched beside the van.

Almost against his will, Raph found himself amused by his brother. With a grin on his face, he shook his head. "You've been watching Game of Thrones too much, Mikey! You're cut off."

Leo frowned, "We're not here to pick up chicks."

"We certainly won't in this thing," Michelangelo muttered.

Leo turned his attention to his brainy brother beneath the van. "Donnie, how are we doing?"

"Just…about…" there was a pause, then, "Done!"

Donatello peered out from under the van with a grin, "Who's the best?" He squeezed out from under the van and began to pick the lock at the driver's side door with a pair of small, metallic instruments. Within moments, the lock gave way and Don pulled open the door. "Now, which one of you guys is gonna buy me tiramisu when we get back to New York?"

"Just get in the damn creeper van, genius." Raph quipped.

With that, the four brothers piled inside. Don in the driver's seat, Leonardo riding shotgun while Raph and Mikey found places to sit among the clutter in the back. The air inside the vehicle smelled of stale fast food. It seemed as if it belonged to a person who worked in maintenance as a variety of tools were strewn about the back where Mikey and Raph made room for themselves. In with the tools were crumpled, empty fast-food bags, Styrofoam cups, empty cans of soda, a few empty bottles of beer and stray, stale, French fries littered the floor.

"This van is nasty! And that's coming from a turtle who lives in a sewer!" Mikey scowled as tossed aside an empty can.

Donatello cracked open the steering column and started working on the wiring behind it. In a moment, the old van coughed to life. He turned on the headlights, eased the vehicle out of the parking space with the windshield wipers doing what they could to keep the windshield clear from the fine mist, and started toward the exit. "We need to hop on M25 and head south..." he started.

Leo nodded. "Punch it."

Don shifted gears on the old van, and it jerked forward, the engine grumbling in protest. However, the auto complied, and in a puff of exhaust, increased its speed. The brothers rode in silence for a moment, the stale air pressing in around them. The clunker made its way to the expressway, occasionally, a puff of black smoke would cough out of the tailpipe, yet the van still chugged along at a good clip.

"Remind me to fix this guy's transmission if we have time. It's the least we can do considering we borrowed his wheels..." Donatello mused.

"We should just jack him a new van! I feel like we should be trolling residential neighborhoods, handing out free, stale candy..." Mikey deadpanned.

Raphael caved. "Or, we could always just do him a solid by spray-painting 'free puppies' on the side of this bucket of bolts!" he could barely finish the sentence before he broke out into a hearty chuckle.

Mikey laughed. Donatello sputtered and broke into a chuckle. Even Leo broke down and laughed quietly, hiding his smile from his brothers.

"We could leave him a disguise with a greasy, pencil-thin mustache..." Donatello added with a grin.

"Donnie! Are we in a creeper van or a porno van?!" Michelangelo laughed.

Leo briskly clapped his hands together, breaking up the laughter. "Alright, alright! That's enough, guys! Focus! We're here on serious business. Let's leave the creeper van or porno talk for another time."

"Fine," Raphael said, grabbing the back of Leo's seat with one hand and pulling himself forward to face his brother. "But you're cut off from picking out our wheels, Fearless! This thing is awful!"

Leo shook his head. "Fair enough," He stated. It felt good to share a good laugh with his brothers. Since Splinter's injury, the four of the rarely smiled let alone laughed. Leo almost hated to break it up. But, they did have a job to do. "Let's just go." He waved a hand absently toward the road before them.

With that, Donatello hit the gas and the ancient rust bucket rushed forward, the expressway before them rushed towards them as they headed toward Curiosum Labs.

* * *

 _Curiosum Labs_

 _6:20 PM_

The weather did nothing to dampen Mr. Finnegan's spirits. The jolly fellow he was, he kept smiling throughout the day. Even as the day wore on, waving a 'good evening' to the majority of the employes as they left for the day, he remained jovial, regardless that he spent the day on his tired feet. Still, he was happy to see his evening replacement, Mr. Toby Collingsworth, approach the security booth. The men greeted each other warmly.

"What is Mrs. Finnegan making for dinner tonight?" Mr. Collingsworth asked with a smile, putting his bag down in the security booth.

"'Er world-famous beef stew, of course!" Mr. Finnegan replied before bending down and plucking a small basket hidden in the corner of the booth.

"What's that?"

"A present that the Mrs. and I put together for Mr. and Mrs. Thompson and their new daughter." Mr. Finnegan stated with a smile.

Mr. Collingsworth smiled in return and wished Mr. Finnegan a good evening as the older gentleman headed toward the main building with the basket in hand.

* * *

 _Upstairs..._

The fifth floor of Curiosum Labs was filled with various offices and meeting rooms. The largest conference room was specifically designed to take video calls from Agent Bishop's headquarters beneath Washington, D.C. The spacious room was painted a stark white. The long table in the middle of the room was glass, the various chairs around it were occupied by twelve people: the core team of scientists under Dr. Schneider's supervision, and Miss Pomfret.

"…That should bring you up to speed on today's events, Agent Bishop." Dr. Schneider finished, addressing the man projected onto the large video screen mounted on the wall at the head of the room.

"Very good, doctor! Be sure to inform me of the results of Slash's dissection the moment you have them."

Dr. Schneider nodded. "Of course."

"I also wanted to bring up another matter with you and your team, Dr. Schneider. Is the siren ready for bio-data transfer?"

Dr. Kimberly Fierst, the team's neurologist, spoke up, "Yes. Her neuro pathways should be developed enough to sustain a procedure of that magnitude: your memories and your martial arts knowledge should seamlessly transfer into the Siren." She was an older woman, wrinkles had already formed at the corners of her eyes and lips. Her blonde and gray hair was pulled back in a severe bun at the back of her head. Her dark brown pantsuit matched her dark brown eyes. She adjusted her wire-frames over her solemn face.

"Plus, the fact that she does possess some of your genetic markers, Agent Bishop, should doubtlessly aid in that process!" Dr. Cardwell chimed in.

"Good. I want the siren prepped and ready for the bio-data transfer by O-eight-hundred hours. By the end of the week, I want the siren physically tested to confirm the transfer, and a full report on the results."

"May I ask why so soon?" Miss Pomfret asked. When she attended these meetings, she would only reiterate what she had done that day, she rarely asked questions. However, the push for results by the end of the week didn't sit right with her.

"You may, Miss Pomfret. We're going to activate Project Siren."

"What?!" Dr. Gouyen couldn't contain her shock. "I'm sorry, but I thought we were going to wait until she had at least reached adolescence before we activated her against the Turtles!"

"That was the initial plan, yes. But…shall we say, circumstances have changed."

"What sort of circumstances?"

"That's none of your concern. All you need to concern yourself with is that due to new information, I have deemed that circumstances have changed. The Turtles must be removed from the equation now, and therefore, Project Siren is to be activated."

"It is my concern! She's a child! They're ninjas! They'll kill her!"

"Not if she possesses my fighting skills via the bio-data transfer, Dr. Gouyen."

"Plus, we made her real pretty for a reason…" Dr. Cardwell interjected.

Dr. Gouyen shot him a look of disgust, "You're not helping!"

"He has a point," Stated Paul Walsh with a grin. He was an older man with a balding head. His wide face was punctuated with small eyes and a pug nose. "We made her attractive for a reason. She may be young yet, but I mean, her beauty is already beginning to blossom. Hell, she's already starting to develop breasts for crying out loud!" A quiet chuckle escaped him. His pale gray suit was covered with a white lab coat. Both of which clung tightly to his body as if both were a size too small.

"Behind a shell, which makes them a bit bloody pointless!" Miss Pomfret grimaced.

"I tried to tell them…" Dr. Fierst said to Miss Pomfret, grimacing. Years ago, upon the Siren's creation, she had protested giving the creature breasts, but she was overruled. She quickly came to the conclusion that the men on the project were more enamored with the idea of adding breasts to their creation for sport, rather than debate the functionality of the tissue behind a plastron.

"It's aesthetics, ladies. Everything about the creature is aesthetics!" Walsh said, barely being able to contain a smile. "Need I remind you that some of the intel that Agent Bishop's people were able to acquire, revealed that a couple of those turtle-freaks had shown some interest in human or, at the very least, humanoid women. We had to make sure all of our bases were covered in order to attract those mutants!" His smile was broad, baring teeth and stretching his jowls.

"Pervert." Dr. Gouyen seethed, shaking her head. The balding man merely shrugged.

"Enough!" Dr. Schneider interrupted them. Then, turning to the screen, "May I speak freely, Agent Bishop? Dr. Gouyen may have a point. My team and I put a lot of work into creating the siren for a specific purpose at a specific time: namely, to activate her against the Turtles once she had reached sexual maturity. To send her off now, half-cocked would be, with all due respect, a massive waste of all our efforts and the funding that the EPF has put into this project. Bluntly, sir, you're inviting failure."

Bishop was unmoved, "Be that as it may, Doctor, my decision stands. My team and I have come across information that demands a sort of urgency that requires us to reevaluate our previous strategy."

"What sort of information do you have that would require us sending a little girl off to fight mutant ninjas?" Dr. Gouyen seethed.

"Again, that is none of your concern, Doctor. You are to only concern yourself with the genetic projects that I have authorized for Dr. Schneider to set before you." Agent Bishop retorted. "Prepare Sonseeahray for bio-data transfer in the morning. You should have the necessary data files for the procedure.

"By the end of the week, I want her ready to bring me the Turtles. By Friday, should the results of the transfer prove positive, I'll give you further instructions on how we'll initiate contact between the siren and those mutant freaks."

Dr. Schneider nodded solemnly. He didn't like what he was hearing, he didn't like having to send something he worked so hard on into a situation where failure was almost a foregone conclusion. "We'll do what is asked."

"I can't believe I'm hearing this! No one here but me has a problem with sending a little girl off to die!?" Dr. Gouyen stood, fuming. Her voice rose, "We're all just going to nod our heads and throw up our hands?!"

Dr. Schneider jumped to his feet and yelled, "Of course we have a problem with it! But if Agent Bishop says she is needed, then she is needed, Doctor! Clearly, he is privy to information that we don't have. We have to trust his judgment! I understand your concerns and we will do our best to give Sonseeahray the best chance possible! Now, sit down!"

She shook her head. "I can't. I won't. She's just a little girl! She'll be killed." She turned and marched out of the conference room, the glass door closing behind her with a near silent "click".

"You need to get your people under control, Dr. Schneider." Bishop's voice came coolly through the video screen.

Dr. Schneider sighed, "Forgive her, Agent Bishop. She possesses a brilliant mind, but I fear that her heart is too big for her own good at times. She has turned herself into some sort of bizarre, maternal surrogate for Sonseeahray."

"What's in her heart doesn't concern me. What does concern me is that she does not try to sabotage our efforts in order to maternally adopt a creature that we created!"

* * *

 _The basement..._

Hades.

That's what every employee of Curiosum Labs called this place. Yet, maybe after today, things would be different? The atmosphere in the basement had changed dramatically from earlier that morning. One could almost say that the feeling was jubilant among those who worked in the dreaded "Hades" sector of Curiosum Labs.

Earlier that morning, news of the dreaded Slash's demise spread throughout the basement sector like a wind of freedom, lifting a heavy shroud of anxiety that hung over the entirety of Curiosum Labs, and in particular, those who were tasked to work in Hades to observe and guard the violent creature. Yet, regardless of how at ease everyone felt, a reverent stillness had fallen over the basement in spite of the busyness of those who worked there. It was almost as if they didn't believe that their living nightmare, was really gone.

A foul, sour stench of rotting flesh still clung to the air despite the best efforts of the most high-tech air filtration systems. The crew busied themselves as there was still a lot of work to do, in spite of the grotesque hulk's passing. He needed to be cleaned up and transported to the morgue for autopsy and dissection. The heavy security systems were shut down to allow for easy transport of the creature's corpse through the basement maze.

Drs. Charles Anderson, Dominic Neri, Michael Willamson, and Carl Moore were not weak men by any stretch of the imagination, but it took the four of them, flanked by five EPF commandos, to move the gurney that carried Slash because of his impressive mass. The four scientists had worked in Hades for the better part of a year. They were tasked with watching the creature, taking extensive notes on his deterioration and specimens. Were it not for the pay involved, the four men agreed a long time ago that they would never have taken the job.

Slash, even in his declining condition, was an imposing creature to behold. The mutant turtle was massive with spines on his carapace, shoulders, and forearms. His large claws were powerful and could easily slice through flesh. Even after his flesh started to rot and fall away from his bones, Slash only became more frightening and more violent; trying to escape from his restraints at every opportunity. As weeks turned into months, and then into years, security gradually increased to address the growing threat from the creature who was becoming more and more savage.

As it was, the death of Slash was welcome news: a chance to relax for the first time since accepting the job in Hades. The four scientists rolled the mutant turtle's massive corpse, into the morgue, followed by the EPF commandos. The room was large and stainless steel covered every inch of it. The floors were reinforced and grated, allowing for easy cleanup with a water hose that was attached to the wall. In the center of the room were two autopsy tables. Besides the tables, were smaller steel tables, upon which, a stark white cloth was placed and on top of that, a variety of medical equipment. To the left, were what looked like large, steel cabinets, but were refrigerating units for storing corpses.

"We're gonna need to combine two of those to fit this monster inside." Dr. Moore stated with a thick Canadian accent as he gestured toward the wall of refrigerating units.

"I say we'll need three! Even with the flesh he's lost, his mass is incredible!" Dr. Neri stated.

Dr. Williamson was silent for a moment. Turning to the group with him he said, "Perhaps we can push together the two autopsy tables and slide him onto it using the sheet he's on? Otherwise, I don't know how we're going to manage to get this done."

"Just figure it out, doctors and get on with it. Clean up the monster so we can go home." One of the EPF commandos said tersely, his voice muffled slightly by the mask he wore on his face.

Dr. Anderson frowned, "Maybe instead of complaining, you can help us move this beast?"

The five commandos exchanged glances behind red-tinted visors. The first one who spoke merely shrugged, allowed his gun to hang by his side, still attached to the strap across his shoulder. "Let's do it, fellas. The sooner we help the egg heads, the sooner we get to the pub!"

"Right! I'm buyin'! Halle-freaking-lujah, this ugly monster bit the dust today! It gave me the freaking creeps!" Another EPF commando chimed in.

"That, and it stank to high heaven!" Another finished. With that, the other four commandos followed the actions of the first and allowed their guns to hang at their sides from the straps across their shoulders.

Moments went by while the group of men moved the autopsy tables together and positioned the gurney so that it was aligned with the tables. Using the sheet Slash's body was lying on, it took the efforts of all nine of them to get the massive beast onto the slab: the mutant turtle's spiny carapace facing the ceiling.

None of them noticed the subtle twitching of Slash's clawed fingers.


	7. Chapter 7

_Curiosum Labs_

 _London, England_

 _6:34 PM_

Dr. Gouyen's ascent to the seventh floor was one filled with a cyclone of emotions. She was feeling angry, heartbroken, guilty, and in some sense, frightened for the little girl she knew as Sonseeahray. How could they send a twelve-year-old child off to fight adult, highly trained, mutant ninjas?

She forsook the elevators in favor of the stairwell. There, at least, she could have some time to be alone with her thoughts. She climbed the concrete steps, her footfalls echoing beneath her and above. Glancing upward toward the landing, the designation "6-D" was painted in bright yellow against the gray wall.

She stopped then. Sighing deeply, Dr. Gouyen slid down, sitting on a cold step just beneath the landing. She wrapped her arms around herself, hands rubbing the crisp fabric of her lab coat. She wanted to cry, but she willed herself not to. Crying wouldn't solve anything, only action would. But what could she possibly do?

Sonseeahray was ill-prepared to run off to New York City and start killing. Regardless of the abilities the girl possessed due to her unique DNA: strength, speed, and agility that would potentially be four times that of a grown man; she was still a child and had not reached the apex of those abilities. Besides, any physical prowess she possessed was made subordinate to her beauty which was specifically engineered to transcend her inhumanity and inflame baser desires. Yet, as a child, she couldn't even rely on the beauty she was gifted with, as her features had not reached maturity.

As her mind swam, she faintly remembered reading the intel profiles gathered on the Turtles. She smiled wryly. Why the hell did she think of them, just then? She knew the EPF and the Turtles weren't on the friendliest of terms just by working on Project Siren. It's not like they'd want to help a lone scientist who works with the EPF…

She paused, brow furrowing, "Or would they…?" she mused.

* * *

 _the seventh floor..._

Sonseeahray should have been used to it by now. There had been always at least one pair of eyes on her since…well, since as long as she could remember. It didn't matter what she was doing: eating, reading, learning math, practicing her Kung Fu or, as she was now, bathing. At first, she thought it was to make sure she was safe from the monster in the basement or from those ninja turtles. Now, she wasn't sure what it was, but she was certain it wasn't for her personal benefit. That knowledge made the eyes that watched her now even harder to bare.

She didn't quite recognize the lab technician (was his name Robert? Or, was it Ronald?) He was an older man in his mid-forties with a long face and a nose that looked as if it had been broken. He held a tablet in his left hand, dangling at his side. Next to him was a fully armed commando. His name, Sonseeahray couldn't quite remember either. Was it Lieutenant McMillian? Half of the commando's face was hidden behind the standard EPF helmet and red tinted visor, but he had tan skin and a broad jaw. The lab tech whispered something to the EPF guard and the two laughed together as they stared at her.

Her bathroom was like the rest of floor: the walls to the east and west were a stark snow white, but the wall facing the hallway was made of reinforced glass, just like the door. There was a stainless steel sink which shone brightly under the LED lighting. A rectangular mirror hung above the sink and a porcelain white tub stood adjacent to that.

She quickly disrobed and stepped into the tub, the hot soapy water flushing her creamy skin to a bright pink. She sat down, allowing the steaming, bubbly water to envelop her small frame. Sonseeahray would have liked to have tried to relax, but the eyes boring holes into her skin wouldn't allow it. She grabbed a washcloth and started scrubbing, only to be greeted by the chortles of the two men watching over her.

"Don't rub so fast, chimera," the lab tech sneered, "you'll rub your skin right off!"

"When she meets those turtles, she'll be rubbing a lot of things!" The commando cracked, which brought on more laughter.

 _It wasn't even funny_ , Sonseeahray thought with a frown.

Did they have to stare so intently? Others who have watched over her while she bathed at least had the decency to give her their backs in order to give her a little bit of privacy.

Sonseeahray sighed and sank down into the bathtub; the hot water coming up to her jaw, the men disappearing from her sight behind the porcelain screen of the tub. The cupcake-scented foam kissed her chin and cheeks while other bubbles danced into fluffy white mounds with every moment she made. She shut her eyes, rested her head on the back of the tub and tried to shake off the reality of where she was and imagined herself in a cozy home filled with warmth, laughter, and colors: blue curtains, green blankets, purple rugs and deep red towels.

Of all the things she wished she could change about the lab, it was the starkness of it all. The colorlessness of it reminded her what a mausoleum or an asylum would look like, rather than the place that she called her home. Sonseeahray never took her life at the lab for granted. All things considered, it wasn't a bad existence. She had a roof over her head, she was warm and safe, she always had a full belly, and she received some love and affection from time to time from Dr. Kushala Gouyen and Miss Sarah Pomfret.

A loud cackle jarred Sonseeahray from her reverie and she glowered. She peered over the edge of the tub and she saw the lab tech lean over toward the commando, his eyes locking on hers, "It's true! I swear it!" His voice was loud enough for her to hear. "That creature is going to be the world's greatest whore by the time Miss Pomfret is done with her!"

"Maybe the little freak will co-star in one of Miss Pomfret's adult films!" The commando added.

More laughter.

"Stop it! Miss Pomfret is a nice lady!" Sonseeahray snapped.

"Miss Pomfret is a slut who's seen more sausage than a hot dog stand!" The lab tech sneered. "And you're being trained to do the same."

The commando turned to the man beside him, "Maybe after those mutant turtles are done with her, the rest of us can get a taste?"

Her cheeks had burned with a mix of embarrassment and fury then. They made another lewd comment about the "tricks" she could do with her mouth and she shot to her feet, soapy water sloshing out of the tub. "Shut your bloody gobs and leave me alone!" Sonseeahray yelled.

The men chuckled.

Sonseeahray felt tears start to well up in her eyes and that feeling only added to her embarrassment and anger. She never liked crying.

"What are you going to do, Chimera?" The EPF commando spat the last word like a curse, "You gonna seduce me to death?"

"I've been trained in Tiger Style Kung Fu, you sodding wanker!" Hot tears fell down her cheeks.

The commando laughed again, lifting his rifle, "And I have a gun."

The commotion caused a group to appear in the bathroom. A couple of lab techs flanked by a few more EPF commandos pushed their way into the bathroom.

"What's going on here?" One commando demanded. Sonseeahray recognized him instantly: Lieutenant Kyle Kramer. He was a tall and handsome man in his mid-twenties: thick black hair, piercing blue eyes and powerfully built with military discipline flowing through his veins. Agent Kramer had stood guard by her room every night for the last five years. His intense gaze shifted between the lab tech and the commando.

"We're just watching the creature take her bath as ordered, Lieutenant Kramer." The tech stated with a shrug.

Kramer's attention then turned to Sonseeahray, "What happened?" He asked, his voice becoming softer, almost like as if he were an older sibling talking to a little sister.

Sonseeahray wiped the tears from her face with the back of her hand, "They were calling me and Miss Pomfret names, saying that we would co-star in one of her Blue Films. I told them to stop but they wouldn't!" More tears fell against her will. Wiping them away, she took a deep, shaky breath and calmed herself. "They wouldn't stop so I yelled at them."

Kraemer turned to the EPF commando, "McMillian?"

The commando shrugged, "Just taking the piss out of the little chimera, as the British would say, sir."

Kramer leaned in close, "You're charged with watching over her while she bathed. You were not charged with joking around with her or giving her your thoughts on life, is that clear?"

"Sir, my job with the EPF is-"

"Your job is to follow orders, which you clearly have problems doing! Let me ask the two of you a question, what do you think is more important to Agent Bishop and Dr. Schneider? You or her?"

The two men exchanged bewildered glances.

"Let me rephrase, who do you think Agent Bishop and Dr. Schneider have invested more money in? You or her?" The weight of Lieutenant Kramer's intense gaze forced the two men to start fidgeting and staring at their shoes. "The EPF and Curiosum Labs have invested a hell of a lot of money in her. Therefore, when it comes to the chimera, it is of the utmost importance that we all follow orders, isn't it? We need to make sure they get their investment's worth, correct?"

Kramer turned on his heel, grabbed a white, fluffy towel that hung on the wall and opened it up in front of Sonseeahray. With a faint smile, he nodded for her to step forward. When she did, he wrapped her in the dry warmth of the soft fabric. Sonseeahray balled the fabric in her hands at her neck, the towel covering her like a cape.

Lieutenant Kramer turned back to the small crowd that had already begun to disperse. He eyed the two men who were charged with watching the Siren, "I would highly suggest the two of you start packing your things. I'll be filing a report and doubtlessly, the two of you will be relieved of your services. We need her to be loyal to the EPF and mistreatment of her will only undermine that."

He gave the two men another intense stare then exited the room with brisk strides, Sonseeahray at his heels. The two of them crossed the long hallway at a quick pace. "Screw them and what they said about you and Miss Pomfret." The Lieutenant said to her, without stopping.

The two quickly arrived at Sonseeahray's room which was being guarded by Lieutenant Anton Payne. Payne had shared nightly duties with Kramer for the past five years as well. He was a bit older than Agent Kramer, in his thirties with rust-colored hair, brown eyes, and a quick smile. Payne quickly opened the glass door to the siren's room, stepping aside to allow the spindly chimera to enter.

Sonseeahray turned to see Lieutenant Kramer standing at the threshold of her room, "Let me give you a word of advice, kid." He stated seriously. "Don't get upset by the words that people say. Let people think what they want to think about you, let them say what they want to say. That way, they'll be all the more surprised when you prove them wrong." A wry smile pulled at his full lips. He gave her a wink, bowed and then turned, allowing the glass door to close and lock behind him.

Sonseeahray's gaze lingered on the young lieutenant for a moment, her stomach awash with butterflies. She couldn't help but smile then. He had always been friendly to her: quick to give her a high-five or a kind word. She once confessed to Miss Pomfret that she had a crush on the EPF commando. Sonseeahray fawned over Kramer's kindness, bravery, and his intelligence. Miss Pomfret had smiled, amused by the girl's infatuation, but told her that Lieutenant Kramer would be far too old for the chimera by the time she was of age. Sonseeahray had protested, saying that she didn't care if he was eighty, she'd still like him. That was still true, especially now that he had come to her rescue and defended her.

She quickly dried and dressed in her nightgown which was a pale pink with yellow stars and climbed into her bed. She grabbed the large book on astronomy that was on her nightstand and opened where she left her bookmark. The book did very little to hold her attention, she peered over the top of her book, gazing at the tall frame belonging to Kyle Kramer. She sighed with a smile and went back to staring at an image of the Eagle Nebula. Maybe one day Kyle would ask her to marry him, just like Dr. Schneider asked Miss Pomfret?

Mrs. Sonseeahray Kramer. She repeated the name again in her mind and giggled softly to herself. She liked the sound of it.

* * *

 _In the stairwell, somewhere between the fifth and sixth floors..._

Dr. Kushala Gouyen remained sitting on a concrete stair. Her mind was racing through all of the knowledge she had acquired while working with Dr. Schneider and the EPF. The Turtles were very resourceful, in fact, one of whom was supposed to be quite proficient with computers and technology. They were more likely to attack criminals or those that threatened their family unit, otherwise, the mutants left people alone. Perhaps she could find a way to contact them? Send them a message? Maybe if she told them that the Siren was just a child they might be moved to compassion?

Dr. Gouyen stood, brushed off her slacks and ascended the remaining stairs to the seventh floor, silently praying that the Mutant Ninja Turtles she heard so much about would be moved to compassion for Sonseeahray's sake.

After Dr. Gouyen exited the stairwell, she quickly found herself in the labs that housed the Siren. She gave an absent nod to Kramer and Payne that stood as sentinels outside Sonseeahray's room. They nodded in return, stepping aside to allow her to punch in the four-digit code to open the door. Once inside, she was greeted by the young chimera, who had jumped up from her bed to embrace her in a hug.

"Dr. Gouyen, you'll never believe what happened-" The girl started, but was interrupted.

"Listen, Sonseeahray, there isn't a lot of time."

Sonseeahray was taken aback by the troubled look in Dr. Gouyen's eyes. "What's wrong, Dr. Gouyen?"

Dr. Gouyen drew in a deep breath before she whispered to her the problem, "You know how we have been training you to get rid of those Turtles?"

Sonseeahray nodded.

"You also know how we were waiting for you to grow up more before we do that? Well, that's changed. Somehow, Agent Bishop has information that, according to him, forces him to activate your project early."

Sonseeahray's brow furrowed, "How early?"

"Tomorrow, he wants you to undergo that bio-data transfer that we talked about a few weeks ago. If all goes well, he wants you activated by the end of the week."

Sonseeahray shook her head in disbelief, "By the end of the week? Why? Have things really gone that pear-shaped to send me off, years before I was scheduled?"

"It appears so. My colleagues seem to think that with Agent Bishop's bio-data transfer you'll be alright..." Dr. Gouyen paused.

"But you don't."

"You're unique and you're very bright...but you're still only twelve!" She drew in a deep breath, tears stinging the backs of her eyes, "You're still growing and even with the bio-data transfer, I fear you don't have the experience to take on four of them!" She watched as the little girl's expression fell, understanding enveloping her young mind: she wasn't expected to survive.

Sonseeahray nodded solemnly.

"Listen, it's a long-shot...but, maybe-maybe I can send a message to the Turtles somehow? They're turtles, too-"

"But I'm not a turtle-"

"But you can pass for one! Maybe with that, plus the fact that you're a child and female...we can appeal to their sense of mercy."

Sonseeahray frowned, "You don't sound very convinced."

Dr. Gouyen sighed heavily. Determination flickered behind her eyes, "I just don't know what else to do! I'm not going to let these people use you and send you off to die! Not as long as I have breath in my body!"

She cupped the small chimera's face in her hands. "I know things seem...uncertain right now. But always remember: you were created to be a survivor. You're brave, you're strong-"

"Keep calm and carry on." Sonseeahray finished.

* * *

 _In the morgue..._

Dr. Carl Moore stretched, arching his back. "Good grief! I think moving that monster off the gurney pulled a muscle in my back!"

"Was it the monster, or that new girl you've been seeing?" Dr. Willamson teased. The men chuckled.

Dr. Neri picked up a hose that was attached to the wall. The nozzle was long and the head could be adjusted for pressure. He pressed a button located next to the hose and water filled the tubing which was encased in a stainless steel coil. "Let's just spray this thing down and get out of here!"

"Okay, but don't put the pressure on too high! I don't want wayward chunks of rotting flesh hitting me in the face!" Dr. Anderson quipped.

"Right!" Dr. Neri turned the head of the nozzle and a high-pressure stream of water shot out of the hose like a bolt of lightning. The stream hit the back of one of Slash's thighs, the pressure tearing a chunk of rotted flesh from the body, spraying the other men in the room with the rotten meat from the mutant's corpse!

The group of men groaned in response, "Damnit, Neri! What did I just tell you!?"

Dr. Neri frantically reached for the nozzle, twisting the head to adjust the pressure, "Sorry!" He walked forward toward the tables, then stopped suddenly. He mouth was agape, as he gasped for air. His face was contorted in an odd mix of both shock and pain.

"Neri? Neri, what's wrong?!"

Blood began to ooze from Dr. Neri's open mouth. What his colleagues and the EPF commandos couldn't see on their side of the table, was one of Slash's massive, clawed hands, penetrated Dr. Neri's abdomen with a strike that was as swift as a snake.

Before the group of men could rush to Dr. Neri's side, they heard a low rumble emanating from what they thought was the corpse of Slash.

"No…no…it can't be! It's dead!" Dr. Anderson stammered.

Before they could blink, in a swift movement, Slash threw Dr. Neri's body toward the group, knocking them off their feet and leaped toward them!

Three of the EPF commandos were able to clamor to their feet, pulling their weapons from their sides, they began firing on the creature.

Dr. Moore was in shock, "Possum! He was playing possum! How was he able to fool the tests?!"

The fourth of the EPF commandos grabbed Dr. Moore, lifting him to his feet and shouting over the din of gunshots, "You have to move, doctor!"

The last of the EPF agents were able to get to their feet. He leaped toward the door, pressing an emergency button on the intercom panel that was located to the right of the door. Instantly, the building erupted with the shrill sound of a siren and red lights began to flash overhead in every hallway throughout the structure.

* * *

 _On the fifth floor..._

The calm stillness on the fifth floor shattered under the deafening horn the security system used as an alarm. The main office lights dimmed in favor of flashing red lights overhead, arresting the attention of anyone who still hadn't left for the day.

Dr. Schneider shot to his feet in alarm. "What the bloody hell?!"

"Doctor, what's happening there?" He was still able to hear Bishop's voice through the alarm.

"I don't know, sir!"

Suddenly, an armed EPF commando rushed into the room, rifle at the ready, "Doctors, we need to get you all to the seventh floor, now!"

"Agent Gotsis, what is going on there?!"

"Commander!" The commando gave the video image of Bishop a salute, "We have word from Team 13 in the basement sector: Project Slash is alive and he's loose. He's killed several people already. Teams 10 through 12 are en route to contain the creature!"

"It would seem that preparations for Slash's death were premature. Initiate Omega Protocol. Lock the building down, agent. We can't have project Slash getting outside the building. Contain the creature. I'll contact our counterparts in London to send reinforcements. In the meantime, Doctor Schneider-" Agent Bishop turned his attention toward the scientists standing around the table, while Agent Gotsis shouted orders to lock down the building into the mic of the two-way radio mounted on his right shoulder.

"Get you and your people to the seventh floor. My agent here is correct. The laboratories that house the Siren are the safest place to be right now should Slash be able to make his way out of the basement sector. Your brains are worth more to me alive than dead." With that, Agent Bishop's image disappeared.

"What about everyone else?" Dr. Fierst asked

"They better hope my teammates can contain that thing or, they're on their own!" Agent Gotsis said tersely. "Now, move!"

As they hurried out of the room, they were soon joined by four other commandoes, weapons drawn. As the group moved through the hallway, they heard a muffled clicking sound beneath the blaring siren. Instantly, reinforced steel shutters clamped down over every window with a metallic "clang".

Paul Walsh whirled around, fear absorbing his flabby features, "They-they've locked us in here like rats!"

Dr. Schneider rushed past him, holding Sarah Pomfret's hand in his, "Yes, Doctor! We're on lockdown! All windows and doors are covered with those reinforced steel shutters! There's no way in or out! We have a crazed monster on the loose downstairs and we can't have it getting out and terrorizing London!"

"But-but, what if we can't get out?!"

"That's kind of the point, Doctor!"

"What if we die?!"

Dr. Schneider stopped, spun on his heel and leveled a hard gaze at the balding man, "Then we die, Doctor! We cannot under any circumstances allow Slash to escape, even if it means forfeiting our own lives!"

One of the EPF commandos that joined them in the hallway, nodded in silent agreement. "And if you try to escape while that thing is still on the loose, I'm authorized to use deadly force! Now stop complaining and move!"

* * *

 _On the road, approaching Curiosum Labs..._

The creeper van sped down the expressway, closing the distance between its occupants and their destination: Curiosum Labs. The four brothers rode on in silence. Donatello busied himself with driving, while his three siblings readied their gear: shuriken were taken out of pouches and attached to belts and shoulder straps for easy access, packs of smoke bombs attached to belts, and daggers were sheathed hidden in their clothing.

"In my duffel bag, there's a pack for each of you with C-4," Donnie stated, motioning absently with a free hand.

Raphael reached forward to the brown duffel bag which was stashed behind Donatello. He opened it up with a zip and dug out a square pack. "This one of 'em?" Raph asked as he held the object between his two brothers in the front seats.

Donatello's gaze shifted from the road to what was in his brother's hand and nodded. "Yep. That's it. There's one in there for each of you."

Leonardo nodded, sheathing a tanto short sword in a scabbard belted to his thigh. "Remember guys, Don uploaded the building schematics to our Shell-Cells-"

"Yeah, we remember," Raph stated as he handed Leo a pack. "Place these bad boys where Donnie designated and the place goes boom!"

"Isn't there a song called, 'Boom Goes the Dynamite'?" Mikey mused, taking a pack from Raph who only shook his head in response to his little brother.

"Mikey, we're almost there. Focus please." Leo warned.

"You said that like, five minutes ago, Fearless," Michelangelo stated.

"And I meant it, five minutes ago." Leo retorted.

"Well either we're going slower, or that lab is getter farther away." Mikey deadpanned.

Raph chuckled, "In this thing? My money's on us going slower, little bro."

"Donnie's givin' 'er all she's got, captain!" Mikey quipped, doing his best impression of Scotty from Star Trek.

The brothers broke into laughter again and Leo shook his head with a grin. Donatello turned toward their desired exit and left the expressway, heading south.

A chirping sound came from the device on Donatello's forearm, "What is it, Donnie?" Leo asked.

With one hand, Don punched a few buttons on the device, "Leo…" He didn't need to explain, Leonardo reached over and grabbed the steering wheel. The space before him illuminated into an array of colors as the virtual computer screen manifested. A flashing red light caused Donatello to pause. "Uh-oh."

"'Uh-oh?' What do you mean, 'Uh-oh?'" Mikey asked.

"The lab is on lockdown."

"What?!" Leo and Raph exclaimed in unison.

"The place is on lockdown. There was a security breach and apparently, it's serious enough that they no one is getting in or out of the building."

"That changes things." Raphael grimaced.

"Just a bit…" Mikey chimed in.

"Pull over," Leo said, and Donnie complied. The van pulled up to a stop several yards from a massive office complex. A large field separated the brothers from their destination. Don killed the engine and the four brothers sat in silence gazing at the buildings. From afar, all seemed well enough. There were no outside indications of any problems within, save for the steel shutters that covered every window and door.

"That it?" Mikey asked motioning toward the office buildings.

"Yeah," Donnie answered.

"It doesn't look like much."

"Well, the TCRI building didn't look like much from the outside, either, Mikey." Raph reminded him. Raphael was right: years ago, they broke into the TCRI building in the hopes of finding Splinter. What looked like a simple office building from the outside, turned out to be a front for the alien species known as Utroms.

"What now?"

Without prompting, Donatello went back to the virtual computer screen. The colors shifted as he tapped a few buttons on the device on his arm, pulling up a schematic of the complex.

Leonardo leaned over and studied the information with his brother, the green, blue and red colors illuminating their faces and cutting through the darkness of the van. Leonardo drew in a breath, shaking his head. "If I'm reading this right, something got out."

Raph and Mikey crept forward, staring at the screen with their brothers, trying to make sense of what they were looking at.

"That thing in Hades?" Raph offered.

"It appears so. Whatever it is, they don't want it getting out of the building. They've initiated what they call the 'Omega Protocol', locking everything down and authorizing deadly force." Donatello shook his head.

Raph sat back and tossed up his hands, "Ain't that the turtle luck workin' true to form! We come all this way, wanting to get in and out, and crap is already hitting the fan!"

"Well, we could always call it a night and check out the sights!" Michelangelo began, then, catching a glare from Leo, "But, we're still going in, aren't we?"

"We didn't come all this way for nothing," Leonardo stated as he turned to study the virtual screen intensely. "Looks like in addition to windows and doors, they've cut off access to the roof..." he paused, "What about there?" He pointed to the lower left.

Donatello nodded, "The service tunnels beneath the building. It could work. We can follow it beneath the parking lot and it'll bring us up to the morgue-"

"Excuse me? Did you say, 'morgue'?" Mikey interjected.

"It ain't the dead ones you should be afraid of Mikey, it's the live ones." Raph retorted.

Donnie continued, "It'll take us up to the morgue, but it looks like the grates are protected by a thermo-laser system."

"Can you disable it?" Leo asked.

Donatello looked at his brother, "Of course. For a time anyway. I think I can hack into their security system long enough to give us a fifteen-second window to get inside."

"That's all we need." Leo turned to his brothers, "Let's roll."

With a click, Don snapped the virtual screen off, grabbed his duffel bag, and followed his brothers out of the van.

"Well, at least we're out of the van. I'm gonna smell like French Fries for a week!"

"Shut-up, Mikey." Raph snapped. "We got business to take care of."

Swift as the night, the brothers made their way across the field, staying low as to not gain attention from anyone who may happen to glance at the shadow covered field.

They quickly came upon a large fence and Donatello whipped out a metal rod, tapped a button, and instantly it transformed into a six-foot staff. With both hands, he held the staff in front of him, allowing each of his brothers to use it, launching themselves effortlessly over the fence. Afterward, Donnie jogged back a few feet, then rushed forward, using his staff to help him vault the distance. He landed on his feet silently on the other side and with the tap of a button, his staff retracted back into a rod.

The entrance to the service tunnel was a gaping cavity, threatening to swallow them in pitch blackness. Straining their ears, they could hear the faint sounds of rapid-fire gunshots and screams in between the muffled, but rhythmic shriek of an alarm.

The four brothers exchanged glances.

Leonardo took a deep breath and exhaled. Furrowing his brow, he stepped forward, "Turtles fight with honor." He murmured as he stepped inside. His brothers followed, each of them becoming cloaked in darkness.


	8. Chapter 8

_Curiosum Labs_

 _London, England_

 _6:35 PM_

Mr. Finnegan had just given Mr. Thompson the basket for his new daughter when the lobby erupted with the shriek of the alarm and flashing red lights.

Mr. Thompson stood up behind the main desk with a start.

"What's all this?" Mr. Finnegan asked, worry starting to seep into his voice.

"Oh my God!" Mr. Cardwell's face was agape, staring at the security footage that was coming through on the closed circuit television screen on his desk.

"What is it, Mr. Cardwell?" Mr. Thompson and Mr. Finnegan moved to look at whatever it was that Mr. Cardwell was seeing and what they viewed sickened them. On one of the many small security monitors that was fed silent, black and white video footage from around Curiosum Labs, they zeroed in on what was coming through from the basement, from Hades: the men watched in horror as what could only be described as a monster, grabbed an EPF commando with clawed hands and tore his head from his shoulders; spraying the camera lens with what must have been blood.

In that same moment, fifteen EPF commandoes raced past them, rifles drawn, the sound of their boots hitting the linoleum echoing throughout the lobby could be heard between each blast of the alarm. The group rushed toward the back stairwell. The commando in front shouting to those following after, "Let's move, boys! Omega Protocol, confirmed: the use of Deadly force is authorized!"

One commando bringing up the rear, quickly turned to the gentlemen behind the front desk, "You gents might want to find a place to lay low!" He shouted over the din of the alarm. Then, he was gone. He disappeared down the hallway following the rest of his group.

"We need to go, now!" Mr. Finnegan shouted.

The three men sprinted toward the front doors, but before they reached them, they heard a muffled clinking sound and instantly, the doors and windows were covered with reinforced steel shutters.

"No!" Mr. Thompson shouted when he reached the doors. He pounded on the glass, but it refused to open. Not like it would do much good anyway as a panel of steel had descended on the other side. "No! I can't be trapped in here with a monster! My family is expecting me!" He pounded at the glass harder, but it didn't crack.

Mr. Finnegan put a comforting hand on his shoulder, "All of our families are expecting us."

Mr. Thompson slowly turned to his old friend, worry was etched into every line of his face. "What are we supposed to do?"

The men stood silent for a few seconds; the red lights continued to flash, punctuated by the rhythmic ear-piercing blast of the alarm.

"We do what that EPF lad suggested," Mr. Finnegan finally stated. "We find a place to hide!"

Somehow, the men were able to hear the muffled sounds of a roar and gunfire could be heard echoing up to the lobby from the basement below over the din from the alarm system. They exchanged terrified glances.

* * *

 _In the basement..._

EPF teams ten through twelve burst through the stairwell into the basement with military precision and what they saw stopped them in their tracks: emptiness. The hallway stretched out before them like a dimly lit maze; the only lighting coming from the flashing, red emergency lights overhead, bathing the hall in an eerie dance between illumination and darkness: red to black, then back to red again. Yet, besides the lights, nothing stirred.

The team leader swallowed hard, never letting his men see this fear. He motioned for his men to follow him and they crept forward. The basement was ominously still. It didn't feel right. He knew the monster was down here. "Be on your toes, boys." He stated quietly, the microphone in his helmet transferring his message to the other commandos. The men walked down the concrete hallway, their only company being the alarm, the emergency lights, the sound of their boots on the floor beneath them and their own breaths.

They came upon a fork in the hall, one tunnel broke off toward the left, leading toward the morgue. The tunnel that leading to the right, went deeper into the sector aptly nicknamed Hades; expanding into a labyrinth of laboratories that were used for various biological and chemical studies and experiments.

Motioning for them to investigate the hall to the left, he lead his team forward. As the distance shrunk away before them, the hallway opened up with a macabre display of broken glass that reflected the flash of the red emergency lights like a million shards of garnet. Dark spatters of blood decorated the walls in a haphazard pattern. The floor was littered with abandoned and broken weapons. There was an arm toward the left, fingers still twitching as the nerve endings died; a severed head, still wearing its helmet with shattered red-tinted visor, was off to the right; its brown eyes staring vacantly, with a mouth frozen in a silent scream, the skin around its neck was haggard and shredded as if it were torn from its body.

Behind them, the echoes of rapid gunfire erupted throughout the stone tunnel, the report from the firearm making itself heard above the din of the alarm. Then, a blood-chilling roar. "Let's go, boys!" The leader shouted and they rushed toward the sound.

The men doubled back and raced down the passageway. They quickly reached the fork where they could either turn to their right and go back upstairs to the first floor or continue forward, delving deeper into the basement sector's labyrinth of laboratories. They continued forward, their heavy breathing and footfalls somehow were able to penetrate the siren blast of each blast from the alarm.

A disturbing, gurgling roar drew their attention to the far end of the hall, where they watched as the last of Team 13 had his arms torn from his body by a hulk of a creature that appeared to be more monster now than a turtle. The commando screamed in an almost inhuman way as he was covered by a spray of crimson; his own blood.

The creature leveled its one-eyed gaze toward them and let out another terrifying roar, penetrating the deafening alarm.

"Bring it down! Bring it down!" The leader from Team 11 shouted. The men pointed their military rifles at the beast and began to open fire.

With lightning swiftness, Slash raced toward the group. The speed in which he moved in his condition defied all logic! He should have been in extreme pain, slow and barely able to move! Yet, somehow, before they knew it, the creature was on top of them!

A few bullets were able to hit home, but none seemed to really bother him much. Slash roared again, baring his serrated teeth...

* * *

 _Upstairs..._

On the seventh floor, the loud alarm made both Dr. Gouyen and Sonseeahray jump.

"What's happening?" the young chimera asked.

"I don't know!" Dr. Gouyen stated. She looked through the glass window toward Agents Kyle Kramer and Anton Payne. Both men seemed to receive some sort of message as both grabbed at their left ear where their earpiece was. They exchanged worried glances then, turned toward Dr. Gouyen and Sonseeahray.

Dr. Gouyen's heart dropped into her stomach. Did they know her plan already? Maybe they overheard her talking to the child and were prepared to take her into custody right here and now?

It was Anton Payne who went for the door, punched in the four-digit code and entered Sonseeahray's room.

Dr. Gouyen swallowed hard. "What is it, Agent Payne?"

"I'm going to ask the two of you to stay in here and hang tight. Project Slash is alive and on the loose. They've ordered the building to be put on lockdown. Luckily, the two of you are already here. They're bringing the rest of your team up, now." The agent glanced toward his partner, "Agent Kramer will stay here. I'm going to meet up with Team 5 and see if they need help. Sit tight."

With that, he turned and left; the glass door closing behind him. Soon, he had vanished down the hallway that was illuminated with red, flashing lights.

Dr. Gouyen felt a knot of fear beginning to twist in her stomach. She turned and looked at Sonseeahray. The child was clearly terrified. Dr. Gouyen pulled her close. "It's going to be OK. They'll contain him before we know it." Even to her, it sounded like a lie.

* * *

 _On the first floor..._

The three men hid as best they could under the desk in the main lobby. Mr. Finnegan had searched in vain for a better hiding spot, but fate wouldn't allow it. Before the gentlemen could attempt to ascend one of the stairwells on the other side of the building, they heard a door burst open from around the corner and down the hall where the EPF commandos had disappeared earlier.

Now, Mr. Finnegan, Mr. Thompson, and Mr. Cardwell didn't hear the shouts of military men. No, after the initial loud bang from the door, all that could be heard was the blaring alarm, always that bloody alarm, with the sound of slow, heavy footsteps against the linoleum floor.

The men darted toward the desk then, hiding underneath. As they remained still, the footsteps approached with a muffled thunk, thunk, thunk. They smelled the stench of rotted flesh grow stronger with each approaching footstep.

The footsteps stopped in the lobby and a low growl could be heard just under the alarm. The voice that came next chilled the men to the bone. It was a deep, gurgling sound as if made by vocal chords that didn't want to work anymore, but still did by some unholy power. "Slash smell….humans. Humans…afraid…humans are…prey."

Mr. Cardwell was the first to expose himself. Terrified, the man leaped to his feet, turning only long enough to catch a glimpse of the beast who was cloaked in a mixture of shadow and flashing, red emergency lights. Somehow, the flashing light made the creature's appearance more horrific.

There, before Mr. Cardwell was a massive, mutant turtle. Its forearms, shoulders, and carapace covered with bony spines. Hunks of his flesh were missing from its body, as a puss-filled ooze seeped out of some places, while blood oozed out of those places where a bullet or two hit home. Neither condition seemed to bother the beast much.

Slash's grotesque features contorted into a sadistic smile, baring his serrated teeth. A purplish tongue slipped out from between the mutant turtle's teeth, licking its cracked lips.

Mr. Cardwell let out a horrified scream, but it was too late. Slash was on top of him in a flash, his mouth clamping down on the soft flesh of his neck, his sharp teeth penetrating deep. Slash jerked his head and ripped away a large chunk of Mr. Cardwell's neck, exposing his windpipe. The man made some sort of gurgling sound before collapsing onto the floor.

Mr. Thompson and Mr. Finnegan were up next, each racing toward the stairwell. Slash roared and the last thing each of them saw was a clawed hand extending toward their faces.

* * *

 _In the service tunnels beneath Curiosum Labs..._

The four brothers advanced down the darkened tunnel, each step drawing the sound of the alarm closer. Occasionally, they could hear the rapid report of gunshots, screams, followed by more gunfire.

Leonardo led his brothers down the shadowy underpass that would eventually take them up through the morgue. With each step, he drew in a deep, steadying breath and released it. Adrenaline began to pulse through his veins.

After their many adventures; some that drew him and his brothers into space or alternate dimensions; one would assume they had grown used to warfare. But the truth is, Leo never really did. Each and every time he and his brothers faced danger, he grew uneasy. While his brothers christened him with the nickname, "Fearless" years ago when they were still teenagers, the fact was that Leonardo was afraid. He was afraid of failing his family or losing one of his brothers in combat. The only thing that made him "fearless" was the fact that he didn't allow his fears to consume him or determine his actions.

Splinter once told him years ago that his trepidation before every battle showed that Leonardo understood what was at stake: the lives of his family.

"Only fools and madmen rush into combat without thoughts of who or what they are fighting for," Splinter had once said, "...nor do they conceive of what would happen should they fail. But you, my son, you understand what could be lost and you don't forget that. That is the making of a great leader. You must have confidence in the skills of your brothers. As you must have confidence in your ability to pull them through every struggle, martial or otherwise."

Leonardo exhaled slowly, he did know what he was to lose should he fail his family and it was something he couldn't allow to happen. Calming his nerves as he moved forward, the only illumination in the tunnel from his brother's forearm-mounted holographic computer screen and the flash of red light ahead of them, lacerating the shadow from above like the pulse of a heartbeat.

"Leo..." Donatello's voice called his eldest brother's attention. "This is it."

As Leo stopped, he stepped into something wet and thick. He looked down and saw a puddle of a dark liquid at his feet. Bending down, Leo touched it and rubbed it between his fingers, "Blood."

A droplet of the red claret landed on the back of his hand.

The four brothers lifted their gaze to see a laser grid protecting a stainless steel grate. The opening in the floor above them was rectangular in shape and about the size of a man: large enough for each of them to fit. A scientist lay on top of it, his vacant eyes staring downward at all of them and at nothing. Blood trickled out of his mouth, the edges of his crisp white lab coat were stained crimson from absorbing his own gore.

"Dudes! This is creepy, he's looking at me!" Michelangelo hissed.

Leonardo ignored his youngest sibling, "Donnie, get us in."

"Working on it." Donatello's fingers were a blur as he worked on the computer mounted on his forearm.

Somewhere above them, far away, the brothers heard another scream and the report from a gun in between blasts from the alarm.

"That alarm is going to drive me crazy. Can you do something about that too, Donnie?" Raphael asked, agitation setting in.

Their gruff brother always became prickly when he was eager for action.

"Let's get inside first, we'll worry about the noise later," Leo stated.

"And we're just...about..." Donatello paused for a heartbeat, "...in!" His gaze snapped upward toward the grating above them and with a flicker, the laser grid went out, leaving the stainless steel mesh bare.

Raph was on it: Leo lifted his brawny brother upward. Glancing toward the dead scientist on the other side Raph whispered, "Sorry, fella," and with a hefty shove, the grate popped open. Raphael pulled himself up into the morgue, quickly pulling his brothers up to meet him.

Taking in their surroundings, the brothers were greeted with a room coated in sprays of blood. Gore from a few scientists and EPF commandos were at their feet. It was apparent that the room was supposed to be hygienic: clean, with white walls and stainless steel doors for the body coolers. But whatever it was supposed to be, it was not that now. It looked like the inside of a slaughterhouse.

"Oh my God, dudes...I-I think I'm gonna be sick." Mikey groaned.

"Focus!" Leo hissed.

"Dude! I see that guy's intestines!"

Donatello's face contorted at the sight of the slaughter. He out of all his brothers, most detested cruelty in conflict. Killing was not something that he enjoyed. Not that his brothers enjoyed it, but he took each death blow he had to dispense to heart, often becoming depressed when he was forced to inflict a level of savagery that he was uncomfortable with. To him, if it had to be done, killing should be fast and clean; not like what he saw here. The body of a scientist lay before him, his arms torn away from his torso and his skull caved in as if it had been crushed by a very large vice grip. Whatever he looked like before, it would've been unrecognizable now.

Raphael appeared next to him, grimacing as he took in the macabre display. "Whatever did that, it's strong enough to crush bone."

Leonardo nodded with steely resolve. "Stay on your toes, guys. We'll do what we can for the injured. Leave the dead. They're beyond our help."

Another deep breath and Leo lead his brothers out of the morgue and into the concrete passageway where they were greeted by more death that seemed to have been meted out with a level of viciousness they had not seen in years. The brothers slipped past more corpses of fallen EPF commandos, a severed head still in its helmet and rifles that couldn't help the men who carried them.

The Turtles made their way down the tunnel in silence, coming to a point where the tunnel diverged to the right or, straight ahead.

Donatello glanced at the holographic projection that hovered in front of him, "If we're heading up, we gotta take a right here." He stated. Motioning toward the corner of the wall he continued, "That's one of the interior masonry piers."

Taking out his pack of C-4, Raphael attached it to where Donatello pointed. He quickly set the explosive and joined his brothers. "One down, three more to go." He sighed, "The sooner we take out Freddy Kreuger's playhouse, the better."

"We'll find the other ones down there." Donatello motioned down the tunnel before them.

The brothers bolted down the tunnel, quickly finding themselves in a honeycomb of laboratories. It was almost as if the carnage in the morgue replayed itself here. Blood was sprayed on the concrete walls and onto the reinforced glass encasing the labs. Various body parts were strewn about the floor.

Donatello sighed. Were he not surrounded by nightmarish slaughter, he might have been impressed by the setup. With the combination of state-of-the-art lab and security equipment, he would have been a like a kid in a candy store. However, he found himself strangely saddened. All of that security was still inefficient to keep these men alive. After taking in his surroundings, the brainy turtle wouldn't allow himself another glace at the gore around him. The smell of blood began to invade his nostrils. He shook his head absently, placing his pack of C-4 against another interior masonry pier.

"It's messed up, isn't it?" Raph's voice called Donnie's attention, "All these people ain't goin' home to their families. I mean, I despise the EPF as much as the next turtle, but this…" He motioned absently with his hands and sighed.

Leonardo and Michelangelo darted farther down the tunnel, finding the designated areas where they were to place the explosives and came back.

With a nod, the brothers followed Leo down back through the tunnel, this time, they turned down the passageway leading upstairs. As the brothers crossed the expanse of the passageway toward the stairwell, Leonardo coached his siblings, "We're not sure what's up there. There may be more EPF commandos that are actually still alive and authorized to use deadly force. We stick to the shadows."

Swift as darkness, the Mutant Ninja Turtles ascended to the first floor.

* * *

 _On the seventh floor..._

Agent Gotsis and his team, along with Dr. Schneider, his group of scientists and Miss Pomfret, made their way to a stairwell marked 5D. Agent Gotsis opened the door and stepped inside. Down below, he could faintly hear the distant sounds of the roar from the mutated beast, followed by the echoes of screams of agony in between each trumpet from the alarm.

 _It made its way to the first floor. Damnit!_ He thought. He moved to the side, allowing two of his teammates to enter, ascending the stairs toward the seventh floor. He waited for the rest of the group to make their way up the stairs, before following them upwards.

On the seventh floor, Agent Gotsis and his team were greeted by Agent Anton Payne. They quickly made their way back to the inner sanctuary of connected laboratories and rooms that housed Sonseeahray. Upon seeing the rest of the scientific team, Dr. Gouyen turned to the small chimera, "Keep what I told you between us. I'm going to try to figure out what's going on. Stay here. Agent Kramer will be right outside your door and I'm just down the hall. OK?"

Sonseeahray nodded. Dr. Gouyen gave her a quick hug and left the room, quickly crossing the hall to meet up with the other scientists and agents. "What's happening?"

"Slash is loose, that's what's happening!" Walsh cried.

"I know that, but has anyone been able to stop him yet? Do we know where he is?" Dr. Gouyen tried to stay calm, but anxiety was faintly kissing her tone.

Agent Gotsis turned to her, "No, he's still loose and from what I could hear, he's made it to the first floor. I need to contact the other teams…" With that, he turned aside, speaking into the two-way radio mounted on his shoulder.

"The first floor? You don't think he'll try to make his way up here, do you?" Sarah Pomfret asked, turning to her fiancé.

Dr. Schneider tilted his head briefly, mentally considering what Slash could be up to. "It's possible. If he's looking for a way out, seeing the front doors barred, he might try to make his way to the roof…"

"How long will those doors hold up and keep us safe here?" Dr. Fierst asked, nodding toward the reinforced steel doors they walked through.

"Against Slash? Hopefully long enough for Agent Bishop's reinforcements to come and help us out."

"Wha-what if they don't make it here in time?" Walsh stammered.

"Just hope that they do." Agent Payne interjected. "If he's made it to the first floor, he's already made it past teams 10 through 13, which means there are only nine teams left to deal with that creature, including us. Nine teams, five men on each team…against Slash? Probably not enough. Unless one of us gets lucky."

"I don't understand. Why shouldn't that be enough men?" Miss Pomfret asked.

"The problem is the alien DNA we used to create him…the same alien species that we used for the Siren, in fact. That creature, whatever it was, was an apex predator on whatever planet it originated from. Their skeletal and muscular systems make them much faster than anything found here on earth. Plus, their strength is greater than most creatures on this planet. Their visual acuity surpasses most earthly animals, save for raptors, and their sense of smell is greater than that of a bloodhound...better than any animal on this planet, really.

"The alien DNA possessed other abilities, too: shocking abilities. Fascinating, but shocking abilities. But Bishop was adamant: he only wanted their speed, strength, eyesight, and sense of smell.

"All of that to say, both Slash and, to a certain extent, Sonseeahray, were created to be perfect hunters in order to rid us of the Turtles. So here we are," Dr. Schneider furrowed his brow. "We have a superb killer ascending the levels of Curiosum Labs, where 9 teams of highly trained commandos might not be enough to stop him."

"What kind of aliens were they?" Miss Pomfret asked, hugging her arms around herself.

Dr. Schneider sighed. He could see the fear in her eyes. He wanted to lie to her, but lies, he knew, wouldn't help any of them now. "Wraiths. Agent Bishop called them Wraiths."

* * *

 _On the first floor..._

Somehow, the rhythmic shriek of the alarm got louder when the Turtles reached the first floor. Or at least, it seemed that way, given the wide expanse of the lobby with its vaulted ceiling. The brothers kept to the shadows, cautiously moving forward, expecting to come into contact with a security guard, but they only encountered the same eerie stillness they found in the basement. Nothing moved.

Creeping past the front desk, the pulsing, red emergency lights revealed the corpses of three men lying in pools of their own blood. One man had his throat ripped out, another was disfigured beyond recognition due to a massive claw mark across his face and the third had his torso shredded in two.

A soft chirping from the computer mounted on Donatello's forearm drew the brainy turtle's attention away from the bloody scene. Tapping a few buttons, the virtual computer screen illuminated the darkness, casting various colors on his face. "Uh, guys?"

"What is it, Donnie?" Leo asked.

"We have EPF reinforcements coming in hot."

"How many?"

"Looks like fifty men with tactical vehicles and a couple of helicopters."

Leonardo grimaced, "How long until they get here?"

"Ten minutes, maybe less."

A bone-chilling roar echoed down to the brothers from somewhere above them, followed by gunfire and screaming.

The Turtles exchanged glances, recognition sinking in.

"Did that sound like who I think it sounded like?" Michelangelo managed.

"It sure sounded like him," Raph spat.

Leonardo frowned, "Slash! We should've known!"

Mikey rubbed his face with his hands, "Not him again! I can't stand that guy! Last time we tangled with him, he tried to nuke New York!"

"And we kicked his ugly shell then, we'll kick it again," Raph growled, drawing his sai from his belt.

"Leo, if it is Slash, he'll be able to pick up our scent long before he sees us. He's going to know we're here." Donatello stated.

"Which means, staying in the shadows won't help us with him," Leo drew in a deep breath and released it, "Be that as it may, we stay in darkness. We have EPF commandos up there and doubtlessly, they'd just as soon fire upon us as they would Slash." He paused for a heartbeat, "But they're going to need our help!"

Drawing his twin katana from their scabbards, Leonardo raced toward the closest stairwell marked 1A, his brothers following close.

* * *

 _On the seventh floor..._

One EPF commando paced impatiently around the room, intently listening to updates from his comrades below. The group of scientists and EPF operatives either sat or stood anxiously amid various computers. To their left, was the safe that contained biological specimens and behind them was the hallway leading to Sonseeahray's room.

Dr. Gouyen hated leaving the girl alone, but she wanted to be kept up-to-date with the latest information. She would, however, occasionally walk back and reassure the chimera; telling her that everything was going to be alright. She didn't even believe herself half the time. An uneasiness in her grew in the pit of her stomach and she started to feel queasy. Dr. Gouyen tried to keep her mind occupied by trying to figure out a way they all could make it out alive. But, as much as she tried, she thought of nothing but her two little girls at home: her husband probably already made them dinner.

"Would you stop pacing? You're making us all nervous." Kyle Kramer barked, shaking Dr. Gouyen out of her thoughts. Kramer had joined them soon after Dr. Gouyen joined the group for the same reason: to get the most up-to-date information. He stood among two teams of EPF agents that surrounded a group of scientists, huddled down in an interior lab on the seventh floor.

"That-that…creature took out two more teams and is on its way up to the third floor!" The Agent answered. Then, pointing to the scientists, "If they aren't nervous already, they should be! It's like the damn thing is bulletproof!"

"Slash is not bulletproof." Dr. Schneider glowered, "His speed and agility may make it seem that way, though."

"His speed and agility make It seem like he's bulletproof?" Another agent mocked. "You almost sound impressed, doc. That creature you created is coming for us all and you're crowing about his speed and agility!"

"Not crowing, agent. Stating a fact." Dr. Schneider snapped.

"He's not coming for us all," Walsh said quietly, commanding the attention of the room. "He's just getting rid of those who stand in his way."

"What are you talking about?" Dr. Schneider asked.

Walsh was apprehensive as though he wasn't sure if he should respond to the question. He scanned the faces of the group that surrounded him. Nervously, he began, "You-you know how his condition has affected his mind?" He addressed Dr. Schneider. It was a statement, not a question. "His condition progressed to the point where he is no longer able to fully interact with his surroundings rationally."

"His intellectual capacity has degenerated to that of an animal, driven by little more than the reptilian part of his brain." Dr. Fierst added, nodding. The team was well aware of Slash's condition, having updates reported to them daily.

Walsh nodded. "He is motivated by his baser impulses: freedom, food and…" His gaze shifted. He looked over his shoulder and down the hallway toward Sonseeahray's room, "…and the need to mate."

Dr. Gouyen slowly stood to her feet, "What are you insinuating?"

"I'm not insinuating anything, Dr. Gouyen. I'm telling you: he's coming for the Siren. That's why he's ascending floors instead of trying to break through a steel-covered door or a window…"

"How do you know this?" Miss Pomfret asked.

"I know it because when we were going through the gene editing process, I ensured that the Siren produced double the pheromones then she would have otherwise."

"What?!" Dr. Schneider jumped to his feet, "I authorized no such thing!" He crossed the distance between them in a few short steps, grabbing Walsh by the lapels of his lab coat, "What the hell have you done?!"

"I did what you and Agent Bishop wanted me to do: ensure that the Siren would have the best chance to make those turtles vulnerable enough to allow her to eliminate them!"

"If Slash sees Sonseeahray as a potential mate and he perceives us as a threat to that, we're dead. You do realize that, Walsh? Your inability to follow my instructions may have just sealed our fate."


	9. Chapter 9

_Third floor of Curiosum Labs_

 _London, England_

 _6:42 PM_

The EPF operatives crept forward, their standard issue M27 IAR rifles drawn and ready. The overhead emergency lights were pulsing their red light that cut into the shadows, draping the hallway before them in a rhythmic dance of red-to-black and then back to red again. The ten paramilitary men that made up teams four and five had rushed down to the third floor to back up their team seven and team six comrades after hearing gunfire and screams.

The long hallway stretched out before them: empty, darkened offices flanking them on both their left and right. The stillness was foreboding. Nothing moved, not even the shadows. The only sounds that could be heard were the wail of the alarm, their breaths and their muffled steps on the industrial carpeting beneath them. It made little sense. Moments ago, the sounds of combat could be heard and as such, the two teams quickly descended toward the cacophony, attempting to back up their brothers-in-arms. But now, all was dark and quiet.

Onward, they walked slowly, delving deeper into the darkness which was punctuated occasionally by the thrust of red light. The men came to the end of the hall which broke sharply to the left. They turned down the corridor, advancing cautiously. Toward the end of the hall, the men could see the corpses of their fallen comrades. Blood stains decorated the walls in a haphazard pattern and severed limbs cluttered the floor.

"My God…" one of the EPF operatives managed to whisper.

"Where's the creature?" Another commando asked.

A loud bang echoed throughout the third floor, followed by the sound of groaning metal.

"The elevators!" The armed men picked up their pace, maneuvering carefully around the bodies of teams seven and six. Making another hard left, they plunged down the hallway toward the bank of elevators. Six metal doors housed the half-dozen elevator shafts; three to their left, the other three to their right. The center doors on the right had been forced open; the metal bent awkwardly in the middle of the entryway, suggested heavy, clawed hands compelled them open.

"It's in the elevator shaft!" One commando stated. Switching on the flashlight attached to the top of his rifle, the operative crept forward, the light slicing through the blackness of the shaft, illuminating thick cables. He peered inside, shining the light above and below and was greeted with stillness.

By the time the teams heard the fast, heavy footfalls coming from behind them, it was too late and Slash was upon them as quickly as darkness itself. The men shouted, firing their weapons. Slash grabbed one commando by the arm, picking him up and tossed him into three other commandos, their bullets hitting the operative that Slash tossed instead of Slash. The men fell backward, hitting the man closest to the open elevator shaft, knocking the man into the open cavity. The man screamed as he fell downward, his cries cascading along the length of the shaft.

Slash whirled toward the remaining commandoes, he let out a ghastly roar, his razor-sharp claws finding their mark across the abdomen of another operative, spilling his intestines in a bloody display of gore. Snarling, he leaped into the air, dodging a spray of bullets. He landed on top of one of the men, his full weight crushing the EPF Agent beneath him. Before the remaining men could level their guns at him, Slash was already moving toward his next target.

"He's too fast!" One of the men shouted as Slash's claws connected with his face, ripping his jaw away from his mouth.

Slash twisted toward another man, snarling. The hulk of a creature paused for a heartbeat, drawing air deeply into his nostrils. His single golden eye snapping open; knowledge reflecting in his eye. Another growl and he was on top of his next mark, ripping at the man's arms with his sharp talons.

* * *

 _Below…_

The echoing scream in the elevator shaft, followed by an ominous metallic thud below, caused the Turtles' attention to snap toward the bank of metallic doors behind them. The sound of rapid gunfire exploded above them, followed by a blood-curdling roar.

"He's right above us!" Leonardo shouted above the din of the alarm siren. Hit the elevators!"

The brothers spun on their heels and raced toward the metallic doors. Donatello's virtual computer screen illuminated his face in an array of colors. "It looks like the center shaft was forced open a floor above us," He stated, motioning to their right.

Raphael moved toward the door replacing his sai in their sheaths, and with Leonardo who sheathed his twin katanas, forced it open. Glancing above, they could see the pulse of the emergency lights cut through the gaping maw of what was once the entryway to the third floor, bathing the shaft in red; the sounds of combat echoing down to them.

"We have two more teams coming down from the sixth floor, all armed with EPF standard M27 IAR rifles," Donatello said, moving closer to his brothers.

Leonardo cursed under his breath. "Alright. Good to know. Guys, keep your smoke bombs ready in case we need to do a ninja vanish."

"Yeah, we get it: watch our asses!" Raph hissed as he leaped into the shaft, grabbing a hold of the thick cable. Hand over hand, he pulled himself upward toward the third floor.

Leo followed, then Michelangelo joined them. With a tap on the computer mounted on his forearm, the virtual screen disappeared, and Donatello brought up the rear; following his brothers up the chamber to the floor above.

Within moments, Raphael reached the breach in the elevator cavity leading to the third floor. He waited for the red light to dim, blanketing the landing before him in darkness. He then launched himself onto the floor. In a single, swift movement, he unsheathed his sai, yet there was nothing but silence and the blood-soaked bodies of dead commandos to greet him.

Raphael was soon joined by his brothers; each of them attaching themselves to the shadows cast by the building's emergency lights, drawing their weapons. Together, the brothers scanned their environment and nothing stirred but the pulsing lights, the slow drip of crimson that was sprayed across the walls, and the rhythmic shriek of the alarm. The lull was unsettling.

"Where is he?" Michelangelo rasped.

"He knows we're here, Mikey," Leo paused for a moment, his blue eyes squinting, "He's playing with us." The eldest of the brothers moved forward, taking care to remain as concealed within the darkness as he could, his younger brothers following close by.

They moved past the carnage near the elevators and down the hall. Soon, they were met by more savagely dismembered bodies and gore. The quartet turned to their right and proceeded down the hall.

"I could scan for heat signatures..." Donatello suggested quietly.

"I need your eyes on your surroundings, Donnie," Leo stated. "Slash can be hiding in any one of these offices. I don't want him getting the jump on you."

As if on cue, a door to one of the darkened offices creaked ahead of them, standing ajar.

"Looks like we've got ourselves an invitation," Raphael muttered.

"Dude, I don't like this!" Mikey hissed, his voice nearly lost under the shriek of the alarm.

"I know. I don't either, but we have to go check it out. Stay on your toes." Leonardo stated as he lead them onward toward the open door. When they reached it, Leo slowly and gently pushed the door open wide with the blade of his katana.

The office opened up before them bathed in darkness. The pulse of the red emergency lights would cut through the dimness in short bursts, illuminating a large central table was placed in the center of the room surrounded by various chairs. The back wall was covered with various framed posters proclaiming mottos like "Teamwork", "Triumph" and "Ingenuity."

The brothers crept forward in silence, their nerves on edge and their senses straining for the slightest hint of Slash's location. The brothers didn't notice that behind them on the ceiling, several panels were missing.

Quietly behind the Turtles, a large, bulky shadow oozed downward from the void left in the ceiling, blocking the entryway.

Leonardo's nostrils filled with the heavy stench of rotted meat.

"Ugh! What is that smell?!" Michelangelo cried.

The bothers turned quickly to see Slash's massive, seven-foot-tall frame choking off their path of egress, the dance between the pulsing emergency lights and the darkness made Slash a macabre sight to behold. Every gaping wound on his body was exaggerated and looked more horrifying. A smile pulled at his cracked hips and a deep, rumbling voice seeped out of his mouth, "Turtles…Slash remember…Turtles! Turtles…no take…mine!"

Michelangelo gazed at Slash wide-eyed, "Bro, you really let yourself go!"

Slash snarled and leaped forward with dizzying speed, but the Turtles were ready. Having fought Slash in the past, they understood that he was inhumanly fast. As such, the brothers dodged the first slashing attack.

Slash's claws connected with an office chair, causing it to explode beneath the force of his strike. Angered, the creature grasped the large table and flipped it toward Michelangelo, the orange-clad turtle spun to his right and missed being crushed beneath the table.

"Your ugly mug just got a one-way ticket to Painville!" Raph shouted, launching himself toward Slash. The crimson-clad turtle thrust with his sai, one of the prongs catching Slash's wrist as it descended down to strike him.

Donatello moved in then, his metal bo-staff swung at Slash's legs with a horizontal arc, causing the massive beast to fall backward. But Slash caught himself and was back on his feet. Leonardo swung toward him with his katana, but fast as a striking snake, Slash grabbed a chair and tossed it toward the eldest turtle who had to quickly compensate for the flying object. With a quick stroke, Leo's swords cleaved the chair into several pieces.

Slash spun and grasped Raphael's arm, yanking him upward, the jerking motion causing his shoulder to become dislocated with a loud pop, and him toward the wall. "Turtles…no take…mine!" Slash roared.

Raph's hard carapace, coupled with the force in which he was launched toward the wall, caused it to explode around him in a cloud of debris.

"Raph!" He heard his brothers cry out as he landed into a painful heap in the hallway. Michelangelo rushed to his side, brushing off bits of the wall that clung to him. Raphael pulled himself up groaning; his left arm hanging awkwardly at his side. "Mikey, my arm...I-I think he dislocated it!" He managed to growl.

Michelangelo grimaced. Wordlessly, he positioned himself to Raphael's left, gently taking a hold of the injured arm. The brothers exchanged glances.

"Just do it!" Raph demanded.

With a swift, smooth motion, Mikey yanked on his brother's arm, popping it back into joint with a loud crack. Raphael grunted as pain shot through his body like an electrical surge. Raphael scowled and quickly got to his feet. Both he and Michelangelo raced back to join the fray with Leo and Donnie.

Donatello swung his staff toward Slash, striking the beast on his left arm. Donnie quickly rotated his shoulders; snapping the opposite end of his bo upward in a hooking motion, connecting with Slash's face. The electrified tip of his staff, lit up the darkened room, sending a jolt into the creature, causing Slash to tumble backward.

Leonardo was there, swinging his twin swords downward in a flash of steel, but before the blades were able to find their mark, Slash rolled, grasping another chair, blocking the stroke. The chair was sliced into several pieces.

"You're going down, Ugly!" The creature roared in anger as Michelangelo's nunchaku found their mark on Slash's carapace, the force of the blow chipping away a piece of the bony structure. Slash whirled and lunged toward the orange-clad turtle, barring serrated teeth. But Mikey was ready, the youngest of his siblings also possessed the rawest, athletic talent and arguably, the sharpest reflexes. He wrapped the _kusari_ of his nunchaku around Slash's forearm and used his momentum to flip the massive turtle onto his back.

Slash instantly recovered, his reflexes as sharp as Michelangelo's, and with the speed of a striking snake, slashed at the young turtle's thigh. Mikey saw the movement from Slash and tried to move, but wasn't fast enough. The beast's talons found his leg, causing a large, bloody gash on his thigh. Michelangelo yelped, falling over and rolling to the side.

"Mikey!" His brothers yelled.

Donatello rushed to his youngest sibling's side, examining the wound. "You're gonna need stitches, Mikey. He barely missed your femoral artery." Donnie stated quickly.

"I'm good bro. I've had worse," Mikey grunted. "Get Slash, don't worry about me. I got this!" Mikey forced a smile, though it was obvious to Donatello that his baby brother was in a considerable amount of pain. Mikey started to reach into the first aid kit attached to the belt on his hip.

Donnie grimaced, "I'm not going to leave you. I'll cover you while you take care of that bleeding, little bro." The bespectacled turtle got back to his feet and turned to face the melee, his bo staff at the ready to defend his brother.

"Turtles…no take…mine!"

"Don, any idea what he's yammering on about?!" Mikey snapped, agitation setting in as he tended to his wounded leg. "What exactly does he think we're taking?"

"Not a clue!" Donnie answered.

Leonardo was the first to reach Slash, in a swift movement, both blades came down toward the monster's head, again, Slash prepared to block the attack with another chair, but Leo anticipated it. He parried the block and shifted his strike, the blades slicing deeply into the creature's right arm. However, at the last second, Slash spun on his heel, robbing Leonardo's katana from taking his whole arm off.

Slash shrieked, falling to his hands and knees. He kicked outward, his foot connecting with Leonardo's plastron, sending the blue-clad turtle sailing backward into the overturned table.

Slash twisted to the side, narrowly escaping the saki of Raphael's sai. However, one found its mark on Slash's right shoulder, the _monouchi_ penetrating into the muscle. "No one hurts Mikey!" Raphael growled.

Slash let out another howl of pain. Grabbing one of Raphael's legs, he sent the bulky turtle careening backward into the hallway once again. Pain shot through Slash's massive frame. His one golden eye focused on the sai still embedded in his shoulder. He reached for it but instead turned his attention toward Leonardo who was moving toward him. This time, Slash waited for Leonardo to make a move. When Leo went in for a strike, the massive creature dodged and swept with his feet. Leo tried to jump out of the way, but Slash found his mark. Leonardo went down and instantly, Slash was there. With the good arm, he grabbed the blue-clad turtle by the scabbards mounted on his back and flung him across the room, sending him through the back wall into the next office.

In the hallway, Raphael was once again on his feet. But before Raphael could run back to the fray, Slash removed the sai buried in his shoulder and threw it at him. The weapon caught Raph on his wrist between the monouchi and the _yoku_ , lodging the weapon into the wall, pinning the red-clad turtle's left wrist. Raphael grasped at his weapon that was buried in the plaster and stone behind him. "Oh, you are beggin' for a beat-down!" Raph hissed as he yanked at the _tsuka_.

As he pulled to loosen his sai from the wall, his ears picked up on the sound of foot-falls fast approaching. He focused his green-gold eyes farther down the hall to see ten EPF commandos with guns drawn come around the corner.

His presence must have startled them. For a heartbeat, the armed men starred at the red-clad turtle in a look of both shock and anger. "It's them!" One of the operatives in the front yelled. He turned his head slightly to the side and shouted into the two-way radio mounted on his arm, "Teams Two and Three reporting: we have the Ninja Turtles in the building! I repeat, we have the Ninja Turtles in the building!"

The voice of Agent Gotsis came back through the speaker, "Eliminate anything with a shell with extreme prejudice!"

The men trained their M27 rifles on Raphael.

"Aw, crud!" Raph hissed. With another yank, he loosened his weapon from the wall and leaped forward, barely missing a spray of bullets. "We got incoming!" Raph yelled.

Slash roared, taking a swipe at Raphael as he sprinted past. Raphael jumped, somersaulting in the air and deftly landing on his feet near Donatello. "We need cover. Where's Leo?"

Donatello motioned with his bo toward the hole in the wall on the opposite end of the room. "Slash threw him through there!"

As if on cue, Leonardo appeared, leaping through the hole and back toward Slash in an impressive display of grace and skill. His twin swords came down at the same moment Slash turned to the side, his blades cleaving a large piece of the beast's carapace from his back. The room was sprayed with blood and a yellow-white liquid that smelled like puss.

"Aw, C'mon, Leo! Watch where you swing those things! He oozed on me!" Raphael winced as he was showered with the grotesque mixture. Some managed to cover Donatello's left arm. Michelangelo was able to remain dry as he finished wrapping his injured leg behind his brothers.

Slash screamed out in pain and, grabbing two chairs, rushed into the hallway where he was met by the EPF commandos. He launched the chairs into the commandoes, causing their bullets to miss their mark. Slash, bolted down the hallway, back towards the elevators.

The Turtles reached for their youngest sibling, helping him to his feet. "We gotta move bros!" Raph warned. The four brothers turned their attention back toward the hallway at the very moment a team of commandos trained their rifles on them.

* * *

 _Upstairs on the seventh floor…_

The announcement through Agent Gotsis' two-way radio that the Ninja Turtles were in the building caused the group of scientists and commandos to go deathly still in stunned silence.

"Okay…," Anton Payne started slowly, "…this is the precise moment when each of us should realize that the proverbial shit has hit the fan."

"How-how did they find us?" Dr. Fierst finally stammered.

Dr. Schneider let go of Walsh and slowly began to walk back toward his seat next to Sarah Pomfret, "In the intelligence profiles Agent Bishop gave me, it did mention that the Turtles were highly resourceful. Agent Bishop told me specifically not to underestimate them."

"I have to contact Agent Bishop," Agent Gotsis said to no one in particular. "He's gotta know about this!" The commando went back to his radio, trying to contact the men coming in as reinforcements to see if they could contact Bishop.

"But how would they figure out to come here…to find us, I mean?" Miss Pomfret asked.

"I don't know, darling."

"One of the dossiers on the Turtles stated that the subject was particularly adept at technology and research. Maybe that turtle was able to finally make the connection between us and the EPF?" Dr. Gouyen offered. Her own earlier plan of contacting that same turtle was brought back to the forefront of her mind.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" Walsh spat.

"What are you talking about?"

"You. I'm talking about you and your self-righteous crusade to help that creature we created! I bet you sent them a message about her!" Walsh sneered.

If she was shocked by how close Walsh guessed her intentions, she didn't allow herself to show it. "I'm not going to apologize for wanting us to interact with the child with a modicum of compassion," Dr. Gouyen retorted. "And frankly, you have no room to talk! You bypassed protocol and disobeyed strict orders in regards to her creation. You can remain seated and shut-up!"

"Will all of you shut-up?!" Anton Payne yelled. "We have bigger issues right now! Slash is on the loose and the Ninja Turtles are here, too…for some reason!" He threw his hands in the air before continuing, "I don't know if any of you eggheads cared to notice, but teams Four and Five are now gone. Teams Two and Three are downstairs right now facing off against not only Slash but the Turtles now as well.

"That means, you only have one team left – that's five agents, count us: one, two, three, four, five! Us," He pointed toward the reinforced steel doors in a grand, theatrical fashion, "…and those doors, are the only things standing between you and five deadly terrapins! You guys can come to terms with reality any day now!"

Kyle Kramer gave his comrade a gentle pat on the shoulder, "We get it, buddy."

Anton Payne furrowed his brow and stared at the group of scientists, "No, I don't think they do." He turned away from the group then, moving toward the other three agents to sulk.

Dr. Gouyen turned away from the group and headed down the hall toward Sonseeahray's room.

"Where are you going, Doctor?" Dr. Fierst asked. It was a foolish question. She knew where she was going. However, she felt the need to break the oppressive silence.

"I'm going to check on Sonseeahray. I'm going to make sure she's doing okay." The group gave her a nod and she moved down the hall, the red emergency lights still flashing overhead in time with each shriek from the alarm. She had a headache, her stomach was in knots and nausea started to set in. The stress and anxiety were getting to her. She thought of her family then. Her husband and her daughters. They probably were finishing up with dinner, wondering where she was. She wished she could call them, hear their voices and tell them that she was OK, even if it was a lie. But she left her cell phone in her purse back in her office…which was on the other side of the reinforced steel doors.

Dr. Gouyen sighed heavily, determining that she would at least help the little girl who stared at her from the other side of the reinforced glass. Somehow, she had to get a message to the Turtles. Maybe, if Slash or the EPF operatives didn't kill them, the Turtles could take Sonseeahray with them; get her away from this place that was only going to use her up and spit her out. A plan started to form in her mind. She knew that it was risky, but she had to try it.

She punched in the four-digit code on the control panel and entered the room. Sonseeahray rushed over to her and embraced her in a hug, "What's happening?"

Dr. Gouyen knelt down and stared into the chimera's mismatched eyes, "I'm not going to lie to you, pretty girl: things are pretty bad right now. Slash is hurting a lot of people-"

Sonseeahray grimaced, "You mean he's killing people. The scent of blood is coming up through the vents." She pointed toward the air ducts.

Dr. Gouyen went ashen then. _ **That's it.**_ She thought. _**That's** **how Slash could pick up her scent. That's how he knew she was here! That's how he knows where she is. With Sonseeahray starting to go through puberty, he must have picked up on her increased pheromones through the ventilation system! That bastard, Walsh!**_

"What is it?" the young girl's voice snapped Dr. Gouyen back to the present.

"I'm sorry, pretty girl. Things…are really, really bad right now. I don't know how to say this, so I'm just going to say it: Slash is coming for you."

"What?!" Fear and shock played across the chimera's delicate features.

"Well, now that your body's starting to change, you're starting to produce an excess of pheromones which he has picked up on. He's not acting rationally, sweetie. He's only driven by the basest of impulses…" Her words trailed off, the young chimera understood.

Sonseeahray had spent enough years learning about the arts of seduction and theories of psychological manipulation through sex to know why the monster was seeking her out after picking up on her pheromones. She frowned.

"I'm sorry, honey." Dr. Gouyen whispered.

The chimera drew in a deep breath and closed her eyes. When she opened them, her face beamed with steely resolve, "He will not touch me."

A small smile tugged at Dr. Gouyen's lips, "No. He won't. There is some hope." She paused for a moment, drawing in a deep breath and exhaling before she continued, "The Turtles are here."

The young girl's eyes grew wide.

"Remember what I told you earlier? How I wanted to contact them…see if they might be moved to have compassion toward you? Maybe this is our lucky day, huh?"

"How is it lucky?"

"I won't have to sneak around and try to figure out some way to send them a message. I'll only have to sneak around here and find them!"

"You're going to...what?!"

Dr. Gouyen put her hands on Sonseeahray's arms, "Listen, pretty girl, I have a really crazy idea…but you have to trust me." She paused briefly, then continued, "I'm going to sneak downstairs and find the Turtles and I'll ask them for help directly-"

"No! They might kill you!"

"They might…but I can only hope that their resourcefulness also translates into rationality...and empathy."

Tears started to sting the backs of Sonseeahray's eyes, "Even if they don't, Slash is loose and there are commandos down there shooting their guns! What if Slash finds you? What if one of the commandos miss and hit you?" Hot tears began to fall down her young cheeks. She lunged forward and embraced Dr. Gouyen fiercely, "No! I don't want you to go! I don't want you to die!"

Tears began to fall down Dr. Gouyen's own cheeks. She returned the hug tenderly, "It's okay, pretty girl. I don't want to die, either! I want to see you again, I want to see my own little girls again-" She drew back and wiped tears from Sonseeahray's face, "…but I also want to know that you were able to grow up happy and free."

The young girl sniffled, shaking her head, "I can't let you go…you-you're the only mum I've ever known."

"I know, pretty girl. But, as a mum, I also have to do what's best for you. And right now, convincing the Turtles to get you out of here is the best thing I can do for you."

The two of them were so lost in their conversation that they didn't hear Kyle Kramer enter, "What's going on here?"

Dr. Gouyen's head snapped toward the young agent. Wiping tears from her face, she stood, "I'm just trying to comfort her, Agent Kramer."

"You're planning on convincing the Turtles to help her escape." He stated. His face a blank mask.

Dr. Gouyen's heart dropped into the pit of her stomach. He overheard what she said to Sonseeahray. _**Well, no sense in denying it, now. She thought.** _She drew in a shaky breath and squared her shoulders, "Yes. I want to convince the Turtles to help her escape." She took another breath, "Agent Kramer, we're fucked. All of us. You know that."

"We don't know that. Reinforcements are on their way and-"

"And you know as well as I do that in all likelihood they won't make it here in time." She glanced at Sonseeahray and then back at Kramer, "And let's say they did. Okay, we make it out of this in one piece, but what about her? She's still screwed. Agent Bishop is supposedly in possession of information that has 'forced' him to activate her project early."

"What? I heard of no such thing." Kramer looked skeptical.

"You haven't heard it yet because he just issued the order less than a half hour ago." Dr. Gouyen stated, careful that her tone was not combative. Her mind was racing. Agent Kramer had always been kind to Sonseeahray, she had to make him understand. "We're about to send this child to fight the Ninja Turtles, Agent."

"Why?" Kramer seemed incredulous. He stole a glance toward Sonseeahray, then looked back toward Dr. Gouyen.

"I don't know why Agent. I really don't. Bishop wouldn't tell me or any of us."

"So, what's the plan? You're gonna let the kid walk around downstairs and see if the Turtles want her? Is that it?"

"No, Agent. I'm going to walk around downstairs and see if I can reason with the Turtles and see if they'd be willing to protect her and get her away from all this." She swept her arms wide.

Kramer looked again at Sonseeahray. The young chimera was still wiping a few stray tears from her face and sniffling. He frowned and drew in a deep breath. "You'd have a better chance of surviving what's down there if I come with you."

Dr. Gouyen smiled. "Thank you Agent, but I need you here." She looked at Sonseeahray for a moment then turned back to him, "I'm going to sneak out of here and head downstairs; find the Turtles if I can and talk to them. Just give me five minutes…"

She paused, turning to the chimera. "I'm going to need you to suit up in your practice gear. The extra padding should help protect you should you encounter any trouble. After five minutes, Agent Kramer will escort you down to the fifth floor." She returned her gaze to Agent Kramer, "If all goes well, we'll all meet in the conference room and I'll have a few Turtles with me."

Agent Kramer grabbed her arm, "Let me come with you."

"No. There's no way any of them will let her out of this room if you're not here."

"And how am I supposed to sneak her past them?" He pointed down the hall where the other scientists and EPF operatives were.

"Well, they want her to fight turtles, tell them that you're escorting her to fight turtles."

Dr. Gouyen drew in a deep breath, "We don't have a lot of time, I have to go." She turned to leave but was stopped by Agent Kramer, "Doctor-"

Dr. Gouyen smiled weakly, "Please, Agent. Help me get her out of here."

Sonseeahray moved forward and wrapped her arms around Dr. Gouyen, "Please don't leave! I want to stay with you!" Tears began to fall from her mismatched eyes.

"It's going to be okay. You'll be with me in five minutes. Get dressed and before you know it, Agent Kramer will take you down to the fifth floor and you'll see me, okay?"

"Doc," Kramer started, shaking his head, "This is insane. What were you going to do before I agreed to help you?"

"Sneak out with her."

"Why don't we just do that now?"

"Because, Agent, too many of us lurking toward the exit will draw too much attention. I don't want any of them, particularly that Agent Gotsis alerting the rest of the EPF, especially Agent Bishop, of what I'm doing."

Kramer frowned and nodded. "Alright. If you need a bit of distraction, I've got your back." He looked at Sonseeahray and wiped the tears from her cheeks. "Get dressed, kid. We're gonna try to get you out of here."


	10. Chapter 10

_Curiosum Labs, Third Floor_

 _London, England_

 _6:43 PM_

"We gotta move, bros!" Raphael warned his three siblings as they helped Michelangelo to his feet. At that moment, the quartet turned their attention to the hallway where a team of EPF commandos stood, pointing their M27 IAR rifles at them.

Mikey raised his hands, "Wait, wait, wait! We're here to help! We are totally not with Slash!"

"I don't think they care, Mikey," Donatello informed his youngest sibling.

"You heard the boss, boys! Anything with a shell dies! Take 'em down!" One of the commandos yelled.

"Aw, crud!" Raph cursed. Time seemed to move it slow motion: the armed men hearing the command and aiming their rifles them. Another heartbeat and their fingers began to squeeze the trigger of their respective weapons.

It was Leonardo who was the first to grab a smoke bomb from his belt, "Vanish!" The egg-shaped device hit the ground, and a plume of black smoke enveloped the room before the military men could unleash a hail of bullets. The men doubled over, coughing and struggling to breathe through the thick vapor.

Swift as shadows, the four brothers evaded the military men, using the black nebula of the smoke bomb as cover. Through years of their training, they had become accustomed to moving in complete darkness and through the haziness that now caused the EPF commandos to gag. It only took a matter of seconds before the brothers were down the hall, moving as fast as their muscled legs could carry them: Leonardo first, then followed by Donatello and Raphael brought up the rear, carrying their injured brother on his back.

"Bro, I could've totally handled a ninja vanish!" Mikey hissed, embarrassed that his brother had hoisted him onto his back without asking.

"Oh, I'll drop your rotten shell as soon as I can! But, I didn't trust you being able to move as fast as you can with that busted up leg of yours, little bro," Raph snapped back. Out of all his brothers, Michelangelo possessed the rawest talent for martial arts and was often faster than his brothers both in speed and reflexes. If Mikey actually, truly applied himself, both Splinter and Leonardo had said many times in the past, he would probably be able to best his own brothers in combat. As it was, however, Mikey preferred to write short stories or poems, watch movies, or learn how to cook a new recipe rather than focus on martial arts.

"It's not busted," Mikey said with a pout. "It's just a cut. I've had busted legs before and this is nothing like that."

"Actually, Slash was able to shred your leg pretty good, baby bro. Raph was right not to take the chance to leave you." Donatello interjected.

"Whatever. Just put me down." Mikey snapped.

Raph complied with a grumble. They had put enough distance between themselves and the commandos that he was comfortable letting his little brother stand on his own feet.

The quartet found a darkened supply closet and huddled inside in order to regroup.

Leonardo turned to his siblings, "We have to find Slash and take him out before he kills anyone else."

"Leo, those EPF guys clearly don't want our help! I say, let them handle Slash. They can take each other out," Raphael spat over the din of the alarm. "Let's just get Donnie to the 7th floor so he can do his nerd-thing and let's book and pop off that C4 in the basement!"

"And what if they aren't able to stop him, Raph? What happens then? We just let Slash run loose around London? What if he gets his hands on another suitcase nuke?"

Donatello inserted himself in between Leonardo and Raphael. When they were younger, Leo and Raph would often butt heads when it came to deciding what the best course of action for them would be. While those instances became fewer and fewer as they grew, Don didn't want to take the chance. They didn't have any time to waste, not with Slash on the loose, commandos on the prowl for them as well as EPF reinforcements on their way. "Guys, did any of you notice anything wrong with Slash?" The bespectacled turtle asked, hoping to break the tension.

"Other than…I dunno…everything?" Raph scowled.

"His body looked like it was literally falling apart," Leo stated.

"And he kept going on about not taking something from him…" Mikey added.

Donatello sighed, "Well, yes. All of that. But more to the point, didn't he seem…kinda…dumb?"

Leo frowned, "Now that you mention it, he was speaking in broken English…what do you think it could mean, Donnie?"

"I can't be sure without running a few diagnostics, but it most likely has something to do with the fact that the alien DNA in his system is reacting poorly to the Utrom mutagen in his mutated turtle DNA."

Leo nodded, "I remember years ago, you and Leatherhead were able to run some tests on the sample you were able to flitch off him."

"Right. What we found was that the genetic condition he possesses due to the warring alien DNA and Utrom mutagen, will not only ultimately bring about his own extermination physically, but it would also cause his mind to deteriorate." Donnie pushed the bridge of his glasses up with a long green finger, "Those unfortunate byproducts were the cause of combining competing DNA strands that compile his genetic code and exacerbated by the accelerated aging process that was implemented in his creation."

"What does that even mean, and why should any of us care?" Raphael spat.

Donatello glowered, "It means that he's probably going to get crazier, Raph."

"And the more unstable he gets, the more dangerous he becomes," Leo finished. He turned his attention to his red-clad brother, "Which means, we take him out." Turning back to Donatello, "How much time do we have before the EPF's cavalry arrives?"

Don tapped the wrist-mounted computer and the colorful, virtual screen appeared before them, its bright colors illuminating the darkness and dancing with the red, flashing emergency lights. With a few taps, he retrieved the information his oldest brother requested, "We have seven minutes…"

"Great." Raphael huffed. "Okay, fine. But Franken-turtle ran off into the wild, blue yonder. We gotta find him, kick his sorry shell, dodge them EPF goons, get Donnie upstairs to grab that info and get outta here before their buddies arrive. How are we gonna do all that in less than seven minutes, Fearless?" He snapped his head toward Donatello, "And can we please do something about this stupid alarm before it makes me punch you in the face?!"

Donatello knew his brother wasn't really going to punch him. At least not here, not now. Still, he didn't appreciate the hollow threat and he knew they didn't have time to argue. He scowled and tapped a few more buttons on the device on his forearm. Within a matter of moments, the blaring alarm went silent.

The deadly calm was more unnerving than the alarm had been. There were no shouts from the heavily armed men, nor their footfalls on the carpeting. Hell, there wasn't even a peep from Slash who was lurking somewhere in the building. With nothing but the flashing red emergency light, Donatello's virtual computer screen, and their breathing, the quiet became oppressive.

"Bros," Mikey started, "Is it just me, or does it seem like we're the only people here right now? I mean, I can't hear anything out there."

"I don't like this," Leo muttered. "Slash and those commandos are still here somewhere."

"We have three heat signatures moving quickly in our direction, seven more are heading up to the 4th floor and," Donatello lifted his hands in front of him, his touch interacting with the colors before his eyes, "...we have a large heat signature moving up the elevator shaft toward the 7th floor."

Leonardo took a moment to study the colorful screen in front of his brother. He took in their surroundings: filing cabinets, metal shelving units that held several bins filled with an assortment of office necessities. His blue eyes moved upward toward the ceiling and a large vent in the back of the room. "Donnie, will that take us up to the 7th floor?"

Donnie's gaze shifted from the virtual screen to the vent, then back to the screen. He tapped the air before him twice, bringing up a schematic of the building's ventilation system. After a moment, he nodded, "It can."

"Alright. Here's the plan: we're gonna dodge Larry, Moe and Curly," Leo started pointing toward the three heat-signatures on his brainy brother's virtual screen, "…and we're going to head up the ventilation shaft, cutting off Franken-turtle at the pass." He tapped at a colorful point on the schematic illuminated before them, causing the screen to shift, pulling up some sort of coding. Leo jerked his hand back, confusion playing across his features. "Wha'd I do? Wha'd I touch?"

Don couldn't help but smile. His eldest sibling was brilliant in many ways. A voracious reader and a highly skilled tactician, able to assess combat situations quickly and figure out the best course of action. Yet, he wasn't terribly technologically savvy. "It's a virtual, interactive screen. You touched it and it just thought you were me for a second." With a few quick hand movements, the screen was back to the building schematic.

Leo frowned, and gingerly pointed to a point on the 7th floor, a few feet away from the elevators. "Right. Well, we'll head him off here." He glanced at each of his brothers, his eyes resting on Mikey, "You still feeling okay, little brother?"

Mikey smiled weakly. "I'm okay, just irritable. The cauterizing powder I had was able to stop most of the bleeding for now. But like Donnie said, I'm gonna need some stitches when we get a chance to pause."

Leo nodded, "Alright. But, take it easy on that leg, okay?"

Michelangelo nodded.

With that, Leo stood. "Let's go."

Donnie tapped a button on his forearm, causing the virtual screen to disappear. The four brothers quickly moved toward the vent and in the blink of an eye, all four had disappeared into the building's ventilation system.

* * *

 _Upstairs on the 7th floor…_

The abrupt cessation of the alarm caused the gathered scientists and remaining EPF agents to exchange quizzical glances in silence. The flashing red light seemed to make the quiet near deafening.

Dr. Fierst's ears began to ring, adjusting to the stillness. "What happened?" She asked.

"I don't know." Agent Anton Payne stated, uneasy. "I don't like it."

Instantly, Agent Gotsis was on his radio, "Teams Two and Three I need an update! What's going on down there?"

The two-way radio mounted on Agent Gotsis' shoulder crackled to life as the disembodied voice of one of the EPF commandoes came through, "Sir, we engaged the shelled hostiles on the third floor. Project Slash has run off and the Ninja Turtles disappeared in a cloud of black smoke!"

"So you lost…all of them?!" Agent Gotsis snapped in response.

"Sir, yes, sir. Agent McIntyre and I, along with the bulk of Teams Two and Three, are moving toward stairwell 3-B so we can sweep the upper floors. Agents Anderson, Rombach and Davis will sweep the third floor and meet us upstairs on the fourth."

"What happened to the alarm system?"

"We're not sure, sir. One minute it was making all of us deaf, the next minute it went silent. Agent McIntyre logged into the alarm system and suspects it was hacked, but not from the outside. It's strange."

Agent Gotsis sighed, "Alright. Keep your radios on. If you see any of those terrapins, alert me at once. We'll make preparations to defend the siren's lab and engage anything that tries to come through those doors that don't work for the EPF."

"Aye, sir." Came the reply. And with that, the radio went silent.

"This is it. We're all going to die." Walsh stated. His eyes vacantly staring down the hallway toward the reinforced steel doors.

"Shut your gob, Walsh!" Miss Pomfret spat. "You're not helping." She drew in a deep breath and exhaled, clearly trying to calm herself before exploding. She continued tersely, "And if we do die, it'll probably be your fault anyway for seeing that the siren produces a double-dose of pheromones while in such a close proximity to a creature who can scent better than a bloodhound!"

"I was making sure she would be able to lure those ninja turtles to her so she could dispatch them! I'm sorry I went a little overboard trying to do a good job!"

"You ended up luring turtles alright, just the wrong one!" Dr. Fierst interjected her own anger welling up inside her belly, "You weren't doing a 'good job', what you did was disobey protocol and acted like an idiot!"

"Indeed," Dr. Schneider snapped. He was still fuming from the revelation that Walsh equipped the siren with an attribute that he did not authorize. Truth be told, he was angry at himself. He should have double checked and then triple checked the chimera's charts. When it came to Project Siren, he made sure everything was planned down to the finest detail. He emphasized to each member of the team the importance of following orders…for their own safety. Yet, he should have anticipated one of his team members ignoring him.

Whether Walsh truly believed he was 'doing a good job' or just playing some game to boost his ego, Dr. Schneider didn't know. What he did know, however, was that such a mistake made by Dr. Walsh would likely end in all of them losing their lives. If there was one thing that all of those animal shows on cable taught him, it was that one did not come between a male animal and its prospective mate.

Males from any species were prone to fight for females, especially if those females were in short supply; often with deadly results. Dr. Schneider shook his head absently, lost in his own thoughts. Considering the mental instability of Slash, devolving him to only his most basic impulses, he would most likely savagely eliminate anyone who he saw stood in the way of his taking the siren. With a creature of Slash's size, strength and speed, the results would be absolute carnage.

"I don't care, Dr. Gouyen! Your attachment to the siren along with Dr. Walsh's stupidity is going to kill us all. I for one would like to see my parents and sister again. What you choose to do, I don't care!" Agent Kyle Kramer's shouting snapped Dr. Schneider from his thoughts and brought him back to the present.

Agent Kramer briskly strode into the computer lab clearly irritated while Dr. Kushala Gouyen followed behind him, distraught. "I won't let you! She's just a child!"

Agent Kramer spun on his heel, pointing a finger at Dr. Gouyen, "No, she's not! She's a genetically engineered...whatever she is...and you and the other eggheads created her to be some kind of turtle-killer, so, I say, let her be a turtle-killer!"

"What is going on here, Kramer?!" Agent Gotsis snapped.

Kyle Kramer turned his attention to his commanding officer, "I'm sorry, sir. Forgive me, but this is stupid! We're all sitting around waiting for that...monster and his four friends to come and get us while we literally are sitting on a weapon that was specifically created to get rid of them!"

"What are you talking about, Agent?" Dr. Schneider asked, incredulous. He was an intelligent man. He knew what the young agent was suggesting, but he needed to hear him say it.

"I'm saying, why don't we send the siren out there to face Slash and the other turtles? Slash is coming after her anyway, right? Let him chase after her while the rest of us wait it out for reinforcements."

Miss Pomfret shot to her feet, "Have you lost your mind?!"

"No, I'm in complete control of my faculties, unlike that creature slaughtering his way up to us right now, Miss Pomfret!"

Dr. Myles Cardwell spoke up, "Now wait a minute...I'm not trying to be confrontational here...but what if Agent Kramer has a point?"

Dr. Schneider shook his head. "No. There has been far too much money and manpower poured into the siren to set her loose against Slash on a whim, regardless of the circumstances! Preparations need to be made and plans formed!"

"Perhaps, but Agent Bishop did order us to have her ready to be sent off to eliminate the turtles by the end of the week. Well, they're here now. It may be a bit early, but-"

"Even so," Dr. Fierst interjected, her impatience apparent in her tone, "the siren has not undergone the bio-data transfer! You'll be sending her off to fight the turtles or Slash even less prepared that she would have been had we allowed her to fully blossom!"

"Manpower, money, preparations..." Agent Kramer mocked, "all I'm hearing are excuses to let us sit and die! If Agent Bishop ordered her to be ready by the end of the week, then, what a better way to test to see if she's ready?" He turned to Agent Gotsis, "Since the good Dr. Schneider is so concerned with protocol and following the rules, get a message to Agent Bishop. See what he has to say about sending out the siren."

"He's right," Walsh offered. "Slash is after the girl. Send her out to meet him. She can keep him distracted long enough until reinforcements arrive and we've been evacuated to safety!"

"Send the siren out to keep Slash distracted?!" Miss Pomfret's anger blazed, "How? By getting killed herself or getting raped?!" She whirled to her fiancé, "Darling, you cannot allow this! She's just a bloody kid! Is her life worth nothing? Is all the work we have done over the years, worth nothing?!"

"Is her life worth more than ours?!" Walsh countered. The room erupted with their voices, each heatedly defending the idea of either sending Sonseeahray outside the reinforced steel doors or to keep her safe within them.

However, one voice was silent. Dr. Gouyen kept her eye on the group as she crept toward the hallway being careful not to draw attention to herself with any fast movements. Backing herself into the hall, she slowly turned to her right and made her way toward the doors, taking short, deliberate steps.

 ** _Don't run, Kushala,_** she told herself. **_Running will only draw attention to you._**

When she reached the doors, she snapped her ID off of her lab coat and slid it through the card scanner by the door. With a soft _wooshing_ sound, the steel doors opened up before her, exposing the gaping darkened maw of the anterior hallway. The pulsing, red emergency lights rhythmically bathed the hall in crimson before fading to black, then back to crimson. The stillness that greeted her, chilled her more than anything. She knew that at least two teams of EPF commandos roamed the building in addition to Slash and the ninja turtles. Yet, she heard no voices. No gunfire. Nothing but oppressive silence.

Dr. Gouyen took a deep breath and steadied her nerves. Standing in the open doorway was an invitation to either be caught by Agent Gotsis or be killed by Slash; she had to move. Another breath and she stepped into the hall, the steel doors closed behind her with a soft, hollow _thunk_.

She turned to her right and briskly walked toward her office. **_Don't run, Kushala,_** she told herself again. **_You'll only draw attention to yourself. And if that monster Slash is lurking in one of these empty offices, you'll need time to react and get out of his way!_**

Fear licked at her senses, causing her stomach to twist into knots. Yet strangely, it wasn't fear of her own life that ate at her, it was the fear of not being there for her daughters. Her children meant more to her than her own life. Had it not been for the injustice she saw in the idea of sending Sonseeahray to fight the ninja turtles, she would have opted to take her chances staying tucked inside the relative safety of the small honeycomb of labs she just left.

Yet, as it was, Kushala was never one to turn a blind eye the plight of children. It was at once, one of her greatest strengths and weaknesses. And Sonseeahray reminded her so much of her own little Tia; so full of hope with a little bit of sass. As she made her way down the hall, her thoughts of Tia overwhelmed her. She was 11 years old. Soon she would need to undergo her Sunrise Ceremony, the rite of passage into womanhood that all Apache women must participate in. If she didn't make it out of this, she wouldn't be able to be there for her on that important day.

A lump of emotion filled her throat, nearly threatening to choke her. Dr. Gouyen shook her head and forced it back. She wouldn't give into it, she decided. A warrior's courage ran through her veins. Dr. Kushala Gouyen's family was descended from the iconic Apache heroine, Gouyen: a woman so courageous she tracked down her husband's killer, infiltrated his tribe and exacted her revenge…all by herself.

Kushala Gouyen drew upon her ancestors, pride in their courage swelling inside her, eclipsing the fear. She was reminded that she was not descended from a cowardly people. In a matter of moments, she found herself in her darkened office. She dared not turn on a light and so she fumbled around in the shadows searching for her computer.

After knocking her knee into her desk, and nearly breaking her neck tripping over her chair, she found the mouse and jiggled it quickly. The monitor sprung to life, illuminating the room with a soft blue glow. Dr. Gouyen cursed under her breath, irritated that the light may give away her position. She shook her head absently, determined to finish what she came here to do in the shortest amount of time possible. Opening a drawer, she found a USB flash drive and plugged it into the computer tower. After a moment, the device appeared on the screen and she clicked her personal files and dragged them to the device ** _. All my personal files should be able to tell those mutant turtles everything they need to know about Sonseeahray and what the plans for her were._**

As the files copied onto the flash drive, she pulled open another drawer and grabbed her cell phone. She had missed several messages from her husband and one from her oldest daughter, all of the messages were asking where she was or when she was coming home. Sadness threatened to turn her into a puddle of emotion right there behind her desk, yet, Dr. Gouyen drew in a steadying breath and exhaled. She didn't dare call them, as much as she wanted desperately to hear their voices; she simply knew she couldn't risk being found by Slash or Agent Gotsis (if he even noticed that she was missing.)

Dr. Gouyen quickly texted a reply to her husband. She told them she would be home soon, that something had come up at the office and they were waiting to be released. She hated not being entirely honest with her husband, but she didn't want him to panic. As she finished up her message, she nearly wept as she keyed in the words, _tell our girls I love them more than anything._ She hit 'send' and bit her lip, saying a silent prayer that she'd be able to survive this and see them all again.

Dr. Gouyen glanced up toward the monitor and saw that the files were copied to the flash drive. Ejecting the drive, she placed both her phone and the drive in the back pockets of her slacks and crept toward the hallway. She cursed at herself for not planning out exactly how she was going to locate the ninja turtles. It wasn't as if she could shout and wave her hands around…

The mutant turtles were last seen on the third floor, perhaps she should start there? She dove into the blackness of the hall and quickly made her way toward the stairwell marked 7-C. **_You only have a few minutes, Kushala…make 'em count!_** Her mind was racing, she had to find a way to contact the turtles, let them know that she was looking for them, that she needed their help…but how?

 ** _One of the agents said that the alarm system seemed to have been hacked from inside the building…one of the mutant turtles were believed to be good with technology…would it be too much to assume that the two facts were related?_** Her thoughts reeled as her hand found the push bar on the door to the stairwell.

In contrast the hallway outside, the stairwell was bathed in a bright white light. Dr. Gouyen had to squint her eyes in order to allow them to adjust. Blinking, she started downward, her soft footfalls echoing throughout the cavernous expanse.

 ** _Perhaps if I can reach the conference room, I can manipulate the video messaging system in order to send out a signal of some sort?_** She hit the landing and rounded the corner, descending down another flight of stairs: the designation on the wall read 6-C.

* * *

 _Elsewhere…_

Hand over clawed hand, Slash made his way up the shadowy elevator shaft. His one golden eye adapted well to the darkness. In his jumbled, shredded thoughts, he could still understand that the blackness was his ally and that he could wear it like a second skin.

He fought desperately to maintain control over his mind, but for every moment he knew of clarity, he was compelled three times over by sheer animalistic will. It was as if his ability to reason was trying to swim through thick, black sludge. Sometimes he could faintly remember a time when, years ago, he retained complete dominion over his brain, possessing a raw cunning that put people in fear. Now, it was just his brute size, strength, and speed that caused these wretched humans to quake with terror.

A thought of making his way to the roof and escaping swirled around in his mind. He tried to reach out and grab onto it, but it was gone as soon as it had come. The intoxicating scent of the siren beckoned him onward. He had to find the source of the sweet torment; she would be ready to take a mate soon.

 ** _Take your pleasure and be done with her. End her and the humans who did this to you. Damn them! Kill them…Kill them all!_** The coherent thought galloped past and was once again replaced by frayed thinking and animalistic logic.

He snarled, baring serrated teeth. The searing pain on his spiny carapace where Leonardo's sword cut a portion free, throbbed. The yellowish-white puss that oozed from the wound was quickly replaced by blood, then a clear liquid that clotted lesion. While he no longer worried about bleeding to death, the pain still coursed through his body, making him angrier than before. **_Deal with the Turtles after you take the girl._** Another lucid thought, then it was gone again as his nostrils picked up on the siren's scent; it was faint, but it was growing stronger, emanating from the 7th floor…

* * *

 _On the 5th floor…_

Dr. Gouyen cracked the door to the 5th floor open, the light from the stairwell cutting through the shadows before her. As on the 7th floor, the red emergency lights pulsed, illuminating the gloom for a brief moment, before dimming, then bathing the hall in red once more. Her ears strained. Somewhere beneath her, she could hear the muffled voices of the EPF commandoes but nothing else. She took a deep breath and raced forward toward the conference room, the door to the stairwell closing behind her with a metallic thud.

Dr. Gouyen stole a glance behind her and cursed under her breath. The closing door was a bit louder than she had anticipated, but it was too late to worry about that now. She found the conference room and dashed inside, maneuvering around the chairs that were haphazardly strewn about the room, obviously abandoned in haste. She reached the back wall where the large video screen and video messaging system was housed. Dr. Gouyen grabbed the box containing the codec unit and cracked it open, displaying various wires, video cards, and a motherboard.

"It's been years since I've done this hacker shit!" Dr. Gouyen hissed under her breath. Still, she pushed aside her irritation and went to work. "Technology-savvy turtle, I just pray you're smart enough to get this…"

* * *

 _Below on the 4th Floor…_

The distant, but distinct sound of a metal door closing with a metallic thud called the attention of the EPF commandos.

"You guys hear that?!" The leader of Team 3 whispered. His team along with Team 2 were rejoined by agents Anderson, Rombach and Davis after their search of the third floor turned up nothing.

Agent Rombach pointed back behind them where they had come, "It sounded like it came from above us in that direction."

The team leader nodded. "Let's go boys!"

With that, the men made their way toward the stairwell designated as 4-C.

* * *

 _Somewhere between the 5th and 6th floors…_

The four brothers slipped through yet another long series of ventilation ducts, the steel bending in compliance to their shifting weight. Yet, instead of making a lot of noise, their ninja training allowed them to pass through with only the slightest of sounds.

Crawling, the turtles made their way to a fork in the ductwork. Donatello led the way following the virtual schematic of the building that hovered before his eyes. He was tailed by Leonardo, then Michelangelo, and Raphael brought up the rear.

"Which way, Donnie?" Leo asked.

The bespectacled turtle stopped, halting their progress. He studied the virtual map of the building's ventilation system, "We go left and then we can shimmy up the shaft-"

"I'm a ninja, Brainiac. A butt-kicking machine. I don't 'shimmy' anywhere!" Raphael remarked gruffly.

"Well, whatever. Can we move? I don't wanna look at Leo's butt any longer than I have to." Mikey complained.

Leonardo twisted his frame in the cramped space, shooting his siblings an icy stare. "Can we focus, please? We're not teenagers anymore!" Leo turned his blue eyes back to his brainy brother. Leo then paused, frowned and shook his head, "And stop looking at my ass, Mikey." Leo hissed over his shoulder.

"Where am I supposed to look?!" Mikey lamented. His sapphire eyes darted around them. "I mean, hello! Kinda lacking in the space department here," he huffed. "No, you know what? Forget it. I'm gonna quit this team! I'm tired of you guys…"

"Shut-up, ya ain't quittin' nothing!" Raph sneered.

Mikey let out another huff, "Okay, so I won't. But I can think about it!"

"Guys!" Leo snapped, then, he refocused on Donatello who was staring at the virtual screen before him quizzically. "What it is, Donnie?"

"This is weird." He lifted a green finger and directed his eldest brother's attention to a small flickering blip on the screen. "This. Someone is sending a signal. But, what's strange is that only someone who's hacked into the system would be able to see it."

Leo studied the blip for a moment. The light it emitted started to form a pattern. "Is…is that Morse code?" He asked, cocking an eyebrow.

"Yeah."

"Do you think someone's trying to get our attention?"

"Maybe. Or perhaps it's trying to get the attention of some other person who's hacked into Curiosum Lab's network." He paused briefly, "It's an S-O-S." Donnie stated. Turning to Leo, he said, "What do you wanna do?"

Leo paused and closed his eyes. When he opened them, his brow furrowed, "Where's our monster blip?"

Donatello tapped the screen before him twice, bringing up a different screen with an array of colors. He pointed with one of his long, green fingers, "There. He's almost on the 7th floor."

"What of our S-O-S blip?"

Donatello tapped the virtual screen again and one schematic was superimposed upon the other. The various colors illuminated only one heat signature on top of the S-O-S signal. "It looks like it's one person…below us and a few yards to the right."

"Alright, let's check out the signaling blip. If it's nothing we head up to intercept Slash."

"Wait, but what about those heat-signature-thingies on the 7th floor?" Mikey asked.

Donatello turned his attention back to the virtual screen, "Looks like they're behind some sort of reinforced steel door."

"Okay, let's hope it holds long enough for us to check out who's signaling S-O-S." With a nod to Donatello, Leo urged them onward.

The quartet turned to their right and in a few yards, they were above a large conference room. Their eyes strained to peer into the inky blackness below. They could see dusky silhouettes of chairs and a large table. Nothing seemed to move.

Donatello drew a pair of high-tech goggles that were perched on his head over his green-gold, bespectacled eyes. Adjusting the visual spectrum on the eyewear, he activated the goggles' night-vision mode, bathing the room in a bright green. Donnie could see her then, a small woman in a lab coat, huddled under the table with the codec of a visual messaging system, looking about nervously. "It's a scientist."

Dr. Gouyen could have sworn that she heard soft, shuffling, metallic sounds. She strained her ears as her heart began to race, sweat began to form on her forehead and on the palms of her hands. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all. She hugged her knees to her chest, hoping that somehow she would soon be joined by Agent Kramer and Sonseeahray. Perhaps there was another way they could sneak her out of the building?

"Who are you?" a warm but authoritative voice in the darkness asked.

Dr. Gouyen nearly leaped out of her skin. Before she could scream, a cool, calloused hand covered her mouth, "Shhhhhhh!" She heard a gruff hiss in her ear. "We're gonna ask you a few questions and we'd appreciate it if you didn't scream." The voice behind her was thick with a New York accent.

"Yeah, we kinda don't want a bunch of guns pointed in our faces again. Once was enough."

She forced herself to steady her breathing and, after a brief moment, she nodded. The hand on her lips released her and she stumbled trying to bring herself to her feet. Her eyes labored to make out their faces, but she could tell from their shadows that she was looking at the four ninja turtles she had read and heard about. "I-I'm Dr. Kushala Gouyen, a senior geneticist on Project Siren. P-please…"

"Gouyen? That's a strong name." Leo stated. " _Da'anzho_ ," he said with a slight bow.

Dr. Gouyen was taken aback, "You speak Apache?"

"A few words."

"His ex-girlfriend was half Apache!"

"Shut-up, Mikey. That's not important right now!"

Leo ignored his brothers, "Were you the one who signaled the S-O-S?"

"Yes. I was hoping that whoever the tech-savvy one was between you would catch it."

"Well, it worked," Donatello stated.

"What do you want?"

She tried to search their faces in the dark, "There's not a lot of time and I need your help! Bishop has ordered us to activate Project Siren and-"

"What is Project Siren?" Donatello asked. "I read about it in a few emails, but I wasn't able to get more information on it. You guys have those files pretty well hidden."

"It's not so much a ' _what'_ as it is a ' _who'_ …" She dug into her back pocket and drew out the flash drive, "Here." She stated, handing it to Donnie. "Those are all my personal files regarding Project Siren. It should tell you everything you need to know about her."

"Her?"


	11. Chapter 11

_London, England_

 _The 7th Floor of Curiosum Labs_

 _6:45 PM…_

Large, clawed hands pried open the doors of the elevator shaft, the metal giving way under Slash's brute strength with a crunch. The thick darkness of the hallway didn't bother him. He loved the shadows. A memory from long ago tried to enter his frayed thoughts. It was hazy, but it was something about his creation and the blood that flowed through his veins. Slash could vaguely recollect Dr. Schneider say something about how the alien blood came from a race called Wraiths; or was it, Dr. Stockman who said it? Slash wasn't sure. Either way, the Wraiths were said to live in the shadows and humans who survived looking at them said they could only make out their black silhouettes. Hence, the name: Wraiths.

Somehow, the word caressed Slash's shredded thoughts. It was as if a faraway concept beckoned to him, calling him home. He wished to go there, and become part of it. It seemed if he could grasp onto that word, Wraiths, his mind's ability to command his thoughts would return. He reached out with his mind, but it slipped away only to have his animalistic drive return.

Slash's nostrils were once again filled with the scent of the Siren. He deftly moved his massive frame through the darkened hall, making no sounds as the shadows welcomed him like family. He wasn't sure if the Siren would welcome him as lovingly as the darkness did, but he didn't care. He would end his torment and take his pleasure from her, then kill her.

He rounded a corner, his body slithering along with the darkness, making no sound as he went. He followed the siren's scent until he came upon a large, reinforced steel door. As he stood at the door, he also picked up the scent of Dr. Marius Schneider: the bastard who worked alongside Dr. Stockman and Agent Bishop making him the abomination that he was. Clarity of thought possessed Slash in a wave and he smiled, barring serrated teeth. Slash took one of his hands and allowed his thick, sharp claws to gently caress the steel. His one golden eye took in his surroundings and focused in on the ventilation system above him.

Slash studied the grated vent in the ceiling for a moment. Pondering if his massive frame could fit inside. But then the thought returned, he was part Wraith. Wherever shadows existed, he could exist, too.

He smiled again, his sharp teeth once again were exposed to the pulsing emergency lights, bathing them in crimson.

* * *

 _On the 5th floor…_

"Her?" Donatello echoed, incredulous, stealing a glance at the USB drive in his hand that Dr. Gouyen gave him

"Yes."

Leonardo stepped forward, "Do you mind briefly telling us what's going on here, Doctor?"

"In a nutshell? Research and development of biological weaponry that can be used against any future alien invasion force…" she paused for a moment, "…and that can also be used as a means to, how did they put it? 'To purge any external threats to that objective, in particular, the specific threat manifesting in the form of mutated terrapins.'"

"That's us! We're famous," Mikey chuckled sarcastically.

Raphael shook his head, "I suppose the implication is that if we just allowed Bishop to conduct his wacky experiments, no matter who it hurt, there wouldn't be a need to 'purge' us, eh?"

Dr. Gouyen shrugged, "I'm not sure. Both he and Dr. Schneider have always talked about your DNA and using it for further experimentation.."

"As if the last few times he grabbed samples from us wasn't enough." Raph spat

"And the time when he scrambled my DNA!" Donatello shuddered. His mind swam with the memories of being infected with the Outbreak Virus which caused a secondary mutation, turning him into a monster.

"Guys, can we focus?" Leonardo turned toward Dr. Gouyen, "Tell us about this Project Siren."

"As briefly as I can say this, frankly all former attempts to stop the four of you using brute force as ultimately failed. So, twelve years ago, Dr. Schneider convinced Agent Bishop to try a different route. We created something…a girl…a chimera. We made her female and part turtle in order to get the four of you to let down your guard. She's part alien in order to be a lethal hunter of the four of you…and she's part human as a buffer between the alien DNA and the mutagen in your genetics." She motioned toward the USB drive in Donatello's hand, "Everything else you can find out from that. Those are all my personal files. They'll tell you everything you need to know."

Michelangelo crossed his arms over his broad chest, "So, you're saying…you guys made a…girl turtle?"

"Not a turtle. Not quite, anyway. She's a chimera."

"OK, but is she hot?"

Raphael could barely contain himself, "Oh my God, Mikey! Did you not hear the woman say they made her twelve years ago!? Meaning, the girl is twelve years old! Jeez, you are such a mutant, you know that?!"

Michelangelo frowned, "She could've gone through an age-fast-forwarding-thing like Slash did!"

Raphael paused for a moment and with a tilt of his head and a shrug, he seemed to grant Mikey his point.

Dr. Gouyen shook her head, "Not her. Her system is too delicate to put that kind of stress on her pituitary gland. Plus, after realizing that the added stress on Slash's pituitary gland due to the accelerated aging process only exacerbated the rapid deterioration of his mental state as well as his physical body, Dr. Schneider didn't want to take that chance."

"We knew it!" Donatello chimed in, almost giddy, "Leatherhead and I knew that Slash's accelerated aging had a hand in his mental and physical volatility!"

"Leatherhead?" Dr. Gouyen asked, quizzically.

Raphael dismissed her question with a wave of his hand, "He's a friend of ours…long story, Doc."

"So how can we help you?" Leonardo asked.

Dr. Gouyen focused her attention back on Leonardo, "Well, initially, she was only going to be used as a contingency plan…if all other methods of getting rid of you failed. If that was the case, she was to be activated after she reached sexual maturity. But Bishop said he has some sort of information that has forced him to 'reevaluate' our previous plan of action and activate her now. He wants her to be ready to face you guys by the end of the week!"

"What kind of information?" Leo asked.

Dr. Gouyen shrugged, "That I don't know. He said it was none of my business." She paused for a moment, "I know this is going to sound weird but-"

Michelangelo interrupted her, "Doc, we're mutant turtles, trust me when I tell you, it'd take a lot for us to think of something as 'weird'."

"I'm asking you to take the girl and help her escape here. Maybe hide her away or, help her start a new life!"

"Okay, that's weird. No one asked us to take a kid before."

Dr. Gouyen was desperately trying to read their faces in the dark. Strangely, she felt at ease around the four of them. Like she could trust them as if she had known them for years. It was an odd feeling. For most of her life, she was always suspicious of strangers. But these mutants, these turtles, made her feel almost…safe. Maybe it was the situation she was in, she didn't know, but she felt that if they agreed to take Sonseeahray, the girl may have a chance. "Please…" She felt herself start to say, emotion welling up inside her, "She-she's a good girl! She doesn't want to fight anyone. All she wants is to get married and be a mother." Hot tears began to sting her eyes, "She reminds me so much of my own little girl, Tia: smart and caring…"

Raphael sighed and shook his head, "No offense lady, but what are we gonna do with a kid? We're four grown turtles."

Dr. Gouyen blinked away the tears that were forming In her eyes as she regained control of her emotions,"Would you rather she stay here? Cause if that's the case, she'll eventually be sent off to kill you guys…"

"Would she even wanna come with us, though?" Michelangelo asked.

"I already spoke to her about it. She's not fond of the idea of leaving me. She looks at me like a mother…but she'll go with you."

Raphael sighed deeply and turned his attention to his eldest brother, "What do you think?"

Leonardo remained silent for a moment, strong arms folded over his chest. Even though the shadows hid his face, Dr. Gouyen could tell that he was thinking it over. When he finally spoke, his voice was measured and thoughtful, "The way I see it; we either help her escape now, and we have a chance of intervening in her life and eliminating a future threat to our family. Or, we fight her later and we end up killing her or she ends up injuring or killing one of us." Dr. Gouyen could tell that he was addressing his companions more than he was addressing her.

"Or, we take her in and she kills us anyway," Raph muttered.

"That's a possibility," Donatello interjected, "If she's been indoctrinated to eliminate us for the past twelve years, then it's quite possible that it would be hard for her to accept a new family dynamic that includes the very turtles she was created to eliminate-"

"Children at that age are malleable," Dr. Gouyen interrupted, "If you keep her safe, she'll know you aren't the threats she was raised to believe you are. Besides, Miss Pomfret and I have done what we can over the years to instill a strong foundation of intellectual independence."

"Who's Miss Pomfret?"

"She's an adult film star who was brought on to teach the girl psychological manipulation through sexual desire and gratification-"

"Woah! She was taught what?"

Dr. Gouyen became a little anxious. In her desire to be honest, she wanted to tell the Turtles what she knew in the hopes that it would build trust between them so they would agree to take Sonseeahray. Now, she may have said too much, "Essentially, she was taught seduction techniques in order to psychologically manipulate the four of you. I know it sounds dreadful, but give her a chance. Agent Kramer will be down here shortly with her. You'll be able to see for yourself. She's a good girl."

"Why should we trust you?" Raph asked, "I mean, no offense Doc, but for all we know, this could be part of the EPF's plan!"

"You don't have any reasons to trust me. All I can offer is that everything I've told you is the truth and if the EPF finds out about what I've done here…" Dr. Gouyen motioned absently with her hands, "…I'll probably end up in prison for divulging government secrets, or worse!"

"Your call, Fearless," Raph stated.

"It's entirely possible that if we do decide to take her, she may try to take us out later. But, there is a chance that we can remove that threat." Leo took a deep breath and released it, "Let's help the girl escape. If she decides to turn on us down the line, I'll take care of it myself."

"Alright. So I guess we're going to be big brothers, huh?" Mikey quipped.

"Seems that way." Raph sighed, "The kid got a name?"

Dr. Gouyen's sigh of relief was both audible and physical: her entire body seemed to relax with the knowledge that the Turtles were going to help the siren escape the EPF. The reprieve from the stress coursed through her body like a wave and she couldn't help but succumb. Her hands went to her face and she sobbed. The siren would be safe with them. Somehow, she knew it. Now, if she could just get home in one piece to her own family. "Thank you." She managed between sobs.

"Doctor, we don't have a lot of time…" Donatello's voice was soft and sympathetic.

"Sonseeahray." She stated finally after a deep breath. She wiped away her tears and straightened, trying to lock eyes with them in the darkness, "I named her Sonseeahray."

* * *

 _Earth Protection Force Headquarters_

 _United States_

 _Location: Classified_

The underground military base was a puzzle to anyone unfamiliar with its complex layout. The labyrinth of standard administrative offices, mess hall, training facilities, intelligence gathering facilities, vehicle repair, maintenance, and storage, as well as weapons and ammunition production and storage facilities, was dizzying. If that wasn't enough, the EPF also kept unique features at each outpost Specifically, fortifications housing a myriad of alien life forms that were either held in stasis to be kept alive or, those that were preserved after their deaths. In addition, there were laboratories to experiment on those various alien species.

Agent John Bishop traversed the expanse of the corridor with long, deliberate strides. His footfalls echoing throughout the expanse of the large room as each step connected with the metallic flooring. He passed through the facilities used to house both deceased aliens and those kept in stasis. The walls almost seemed to be decorated on either side by a multitude of pods containing the body of an alien creature, each one more bizarre than the last. Each of the pods cast a yellow-orange glow, cutting through the darkness like countless torches.

Agent Bishop didn't spare any of the pods a second glance as he moved briskly toward the exit at the other end of the room. He held nothing but contempt for the infiltrating vermin that occupied each of the pods. Were he not a man of science, he'd burn all of their disgusting bodies in a massive inferno, it worked better in his favor, no, the Earth's favor, that he studied his adversaries. He needed to learn their strengths and their weaknesses. To Bishop, the multitude of aliens that found themselves dissected in his laboratories and under his microscope was better than any of them deserved. Yet, he couldn't deny the advantages that he gained from keeping their deplorable forms around for scientific research.

He was followed by a younger military man, Agent Davies, who, like Bishop, was clad entirely in black. His light brown hair was clipped close to his head and his brown eyes were focused on the iPad in his hand. "According to this preliminary report, sir, it's just as Agent Bowman described in the field: the archaeologists digging at the Siachen Glacier have not uncovered a lost civilization, they've uncovered an alien outpost." His attention returned to Agent Bishop.

Bishop's face remained as expressionless as a mask. "And the markings that were found?"

"Our linguistics team have confirmed that they are what you believed they were, sir."

"What about our communications teams? Have they picked up any unusual signals emanating from the site?"

"Yes, sir."

"How long has it been broadcasting?"

"72 hours, sir."

Bishop's furrowed eyebrows were the only outward indication that he was not happy with what he just heard. Agent Davies picked up on his superior officer's displeasure, "Permission to speak freely, sir?" he asked at the two men reached the far end of the room. The large, black, steel door opened up to them with a metallic hiss.

They stepped through the aperture into a long hallway. To their left, a series of rooms with various scientists hunched over microscopes or computer screens. To their right, a large window made of reinforced glass that overlooked a hangar with different types of high-tech aircraft and land vehicles.

The two men were nearly halfway through the hall before Bishop answered, "Speak."

"On a scale of one-to-shit, how bad is it?"

"Pretty bad," Bishop stated stoically. "The last time an outpost from that species was found, it was back to October of 1962. Archaeologists working on the site inadvertently triggered a distress signal that was shot into deep space. Luckily, the Cuban Missle Crisis had the world's eyes fixated on Cuba and not that remote cenote in Mexico where the sunken outpost was found.

"The EPF was able to get to the site, eliminate the archaeologists, stip it bare of its technology and get back to the states before anyone in the world was any wiser. It wasn't until the DNA samples that were taken off the bodies were studied did we realize the threat that we uncovered."

"Maybe we can get lucky again, sir?"

"I don't believe in luck, Agent," Bishop said as the men neared the other end of the hallway. They stepped through another doorway and into the large communications room filled with a vast array of monitors manned by uniformed military men. In the center of the room, was a large projection of planet earth and the various satellites hovering above it. The area was filled with a cacophony of messages and radio signals in a variety of languages, all vying for attention.

"Agent Bishop, sir!" The voice of a female Agent cut through the noise. The woman was tall. Her slender figure covered in the same black military-issue uniform that her male counterparts wore. Her long brown hair was tied back in a high ponytail. When she reached the two men, she gave Bishop a quick salute.

"Agent Carroll."

She gave a quick nod, "Agent Bishop, I have an urgent message from London, sir."

"Were they able to neutralize Project Slash?"

"No, sir. In fact, things may have gotten much worse. Our team on the ground is reporting that they are down to three teams and the Ninja Turtles are at Curiosum Labs. The Turtles may be helping Project Slash…or trying to help him…maybe they're trying to stop him. Agent Gotsis is not quite sure."

"The Turtles are in London?! How the-" Bishop's temper flared. How the devil did the Turtles find out about Curiosum Labs?! He shook his head. It didn't matter now. The fact is, they were there and doubtlessly if left to their own devices, they would ruin everything. "How long until reinforcements arrive?"

"Less than five minutes, sir."

Bishop scowled. Less than five minutes may be enough time if he was dealing with an ordinary threat. But history had shown him time and again that the Turtles were far from ordinary. He knew better than to rely on the usual methods of disposing of a menace when it came to those terrapins. The Turtles, he learned, were far too resourceful for that. He shook his head, "Those wretched abominations would choose today of all days to poke their noses into my business!"

"Sir," Agent Carroll interrupted, "The team on the ground would like permission to have Project Siren engage the targets."

Agent Bishop studied her for a moment in silence. After what seemed like ages, he finally spoke, "Do it. We'll see how good Dr. Schneider's creation really is."

With a quick nod, she rushed back to her station to relay the message. Bishop turned his attention back to the younger agent, "Is the team ready?"

"Well, yes, sir, but…" Agent Davies paused. "Sir, may I be frank?"

"Yes."

"Well, sir, can't the expedition to the Siachen Glacier wait? I mean, it sounds like things are pretty desperate there."

"As of right now, the signal coming from the unearthed alien outpost takes precedence over all things. That, agent, poses the bigger threat to the planet. Get my team ready to leave in fifteen minutes. I'm going to send someone else to London…"

* * *

 _In a shadowy room inside EPF headquarters…_

The darkness pressed in around him like a shroud, his face only illuminated by the colorful holographic projection before him, "Are you sure this is a secured line, Dr. Stockman?" Dr. Bajek asked.

"Absolutely, Dr. Bajek! My incomparable genius has successfully bypassed the communication systems and encrypted our connection. There is no way anyone here knows that you and I are speaking."

"Be that as it may," Bajek adjusted his wire-rims, "My employer and I are taking precautions on our end, too."

What remained of Baxter Stockman, who was one of the most brilliant scientists on earth, was a cloned head on top of a cybernetic body. Stockman once was the CEO of Stocktronics, one of the world's leading technology firms. Yet, over the years, because of his ambition and intellect, he found himself lured in by the promise of power. In particular, it was the promise of a power that was bestowed upon him by his mind, that he eventually found himself in the employ of the notorious criminal, Oroku Saki, or, The Shredder.

It was during his tenure with Shredder that his "punishments" for failing to kill the Turtles resulted in his losing an eye, then an arm, and on down the line until nothing was left of him but his brain. And it all started with that horrible witch, April O'Neil, his former employee. If only she hadn't snooped around his lab and found out the true purpose of his Mousers…if only she hadn't involved the Turtles, none of his misfortunes would have happened.

And his misfortunes didn't end with the Shredder. After Shredder was expelled into space, supposedly to return to his homeworld as the Utrom criminal Ch'rell, Baxter Stockman, a genius among geniuses, found himself working with Agent Bishop and the EPF.

True, it was better than working for Shredder, but he was so tired of being at the beck-and-call of cretins whose intelligence could nowhere near match his own! The only Stockman enjoyed less than working for men who were mere morons compared to his brilliance, was to have his accomplishments cast aside by men who were a pathetic excuse for a scientist.

Such as Dr. Marius Schneider. It was true that Stockman detested what he called, "playing Dr. Frankenstein." He loathed creating monsters from scraps of leftover genetic material because it was beneath him. But for Bishop to bring on the laughably inadequate Dr. Schneider was a bigger blow to Stockman's ego then he would allow himself to admit.

After the failure of Project Slash, he was sure that Bishop would get rid of the man. However, somehow, Dr. Schneider convinced Bishop that it would be a good idea to create a female turtle…or chimera…or whatever it was that Dr. Schneider ended up doing. He remembered scoffing that the lunacy of the concept after he had heard. A female creature was going to be made to defeat the Turtles? Ridiculous. Surely, if a man of his insurmountable excellence was unable to rid the world of those misbegotten Turtles, a little girl wouldn't be able to do it…monster or no.

Dr. Bajek's voice brought Stockman's thoughts back to the present, "My employer would like to thank you for reaching out to him with the information you provided. It seems that everything is going according to plan."

"Of course it is! This plan was crafted in part, by my brilliance!"

"Right, well, according to our intelligence reports, Project Slash is inflicting total carnage at Curiosum Labs right now-"

"But what of Dr. Schneider?" Stockman interrupted, "Do you know if Dr. Schneider is dead?"

"That we don't know. We're keeping an eye on the locations of Projects Slash and Siren. As predicted, Agent Bishop has asked for reinforcements which are on their way to the Lab, but they won't make it. My employer has sent his own team and they have intercepted the EPF's cavalry and neutralized them. They are now on their way to Curiosum Labs to pick up the Projects Slash and Siren."

Baxter Stockman dismissed Dr. Bajek with a wave of his hand, "Whatever your boss wants with those wretched creatures is no concern of mine. Though, I'm still confused over why he would want creatures so poorly made by an inferior intellect."

"He has his reasons."

"I'm sure. But, if your boss ever wants a real giant among intellectuals to create true works of scientific sagacity, he could always contact me!"

Dr. Bajek paused, "He'll call you if he needs you."

"Now, about that money…"

"Yes. Once it is confirmed that Projects Slash and Siren are free from the lab and in our possession, the amount you specified will be wired to your account and not a moment before."

"You can rest assured that those poor excuses for genetic research will be yours by the end of the night!"

"They better be. Until then…" And with that, the transmission ended and Dr. Bajek's face disappeared.

Stockman leaned back in the chair that was specially made to handle the weight of his cybernetic frame. _Soon,_ he thought. _Soon Dr. Schneider will be gone and I will be freed from the shadow of a lesser man!_

The door to his room opened and the light from the anterior hallway cut through the darkness like a knife. Bishop stepped inside and folded his arms over his broad chest. "I trust I'm not interrupting you, am I, Doctor?"

Stockman shot up from his desk, "No-no, not at all, Agent Bishop! You're always welcome in my humble office you and the EPF so graciously provided for me." He silently prayed that Bishop was unable to hear him speaking with Dr. Bajek from the hallway. "How can I be of service?"

"You can be of service by heading to the hangar. I'm sending you to London with a retrieval team."

"You…wait, what?"

In a few deliberate strides, Bishop closed the distance between them. "I'm sure you're aware of the situation in London, yes?"

"Well, I did overhear a few things from-"

"The Turtles are there."

"The Turtles?! How did they-"

"It doesn't matter. I'm authorizing our teams at Curiosum Labs to have Project Siren engage both Project Slash and the Mutant Turtles. There is a good chance Project Siren is ill-prepared to deal with a dual threat like Slash and the Turtles present.

"I'm sending you to London with a retrieval team to bring back whatever…or whoever is left." With that, he spun on his heel and headed toward the door. "You have twenty minutes, Stockman! Get your cybernetic ass in the hangar!"

As the door closed behind him, Stockman was once again bathed in darkness, hiding the smile that spread across his face, "If I'm lucky, Projects Slash and Siren will take out those wretched Turtles and Dr. Schneider and I will be able to see the cold, dead bodies of my enemies in person…"

* * *

 _7th Floor_

 _Curiosum Labs_

 _London, England_

 _6:47 PM_

"Affirmative. Project Siren is to engage Project Slash and the Turtles." Agent Gotsis got off of the radio and motioned toward Agent Kramer.

Without a word, Kyle Kramer spun on his heel and darted back toward Sonseeahray's room.

"No!" Miss Pomfret shouted, jumping to her feet, "I can't allow this! We're sending a little girl down to fight a battle-"

"A battle she was created to fight!" Dr. Cardwell snapped.

Agent Gotsis stepped forward, "Agent Bishop has spoken. She's going."

"No, I-I can't…where's Kushala?" Miss Pomfret looked around the room, searching for the one voice of reason she knew she could count on, but she wasn't there.

"Hey, where is Dr. Gouyen?" Walsh inquired.

"In the back with the chimera?" Dr. Fierst offered.

"No, she came out here with Kyle Kramer…"

The group looked toward the hallway that led to the reinforced steel doors. "You don't think she did something really stupid, do you?"

At the other end of the hall, Kyle Kramer reached Sonseeahray's room. He quickly punched in the four-digit code and stepped inside. Sonseeahray was already dressed head-to-toe in white body armor. The armor was lightweight for training, but as Dr. Gouyen suggested, it would provide extra protection should she need it.

"Alright kid, you're on. Bishop says you're going to engage Slash and the Turtles," He knelt down so his blue eyes could meet her mismatched-colored gaze, "…but you're not going to fight them. We're going to run down to the 5th floor and meet up with Dr. Gouyen and the Turtles like we planned, OK?"

Sonseeahray nodded. She drew in a deep breath and closed her eyes tightly. When she opened them, she said quietly, "I'm scared, Agent Kramer."

Kramer forced a wry smile, "Me, too." He stood up and crossed over to her bed, picking up the white practice helmet he found there. When he turned back to the chimera, the look of terror on her face made his breath caught in his throat. "What is it?" He managed to hiss.

Sonseeahray's small frame trembled, "He's here."

"Who's here? Is-is Slash…here?" Kramer wheezed. His breaths had become short and shallow. A cold sweat began to form on his brow. He instinctively grabbed his rifle from his side and unlocked the safety mechanism. He spun around back toward the bed, but only saw drawings and astronomy posters. He backed toward Sonseeahray slowly, "Where is he, kiddo?" His head shifted from side to side, then, almost against his will, his eyes raised toward the ceiling and there, in the corner of the room, peering down at them like a Cheshire cat, was one golden eye and a multitude of serrated teeth, the light from the room glinting off saliva-covered fangs.

Kramer could hear a strange gurgling sound rumble down from the grinning face in the vent, "…fear me…"

Without hesitation, Agent Kramer lifted his rifle toward the vent and opened fire, "Run!" He yelled as his warning was almost drowned out by the high-pitched shriek that came from Sonseeahray. The two turned and raced out of the room and down the hall. A loud crash exploded behind them as Slash descended from the ceiling.

"Run! Run you sonsabitches, run!" Kramer shouted as he and the chimera burst into the room. The scientists and remaining EPF Agents were already on their feet after hearing the gunfire from Kramer's rifle.

Agent Gotsis tried to maintain composure, but he was clearly shaken, "Agent Kramer, what-"

"He flanked us, Gotsis, that mother fucker somehow got his big ass to fit in the ventilation system!

Slash's roar reverberated off the metallic walls, sending the scientists into a panic. Dr. Schneider grabbed Sarah Pomfret's hand and darted toward the reinforced steel doors along with their fellow scientists.

Heavy footfalls could be heard as Slash made his way down the corridor, he roared again, baring his sharp teeth.

The Agents let loose a hail of gunfire down the hallway toward the Siren's room, however, fast as lightning, Slash was upon them. He struck out with his clawed hand, catching one agent across the face, separating his jaw from his skull.

Sonseeahray stopped and whirled back toward Agent Kramer, "Kyle!"

Kramer let loose a three-bullet burst before turning back to Sonseeahray, "Run!"

"Not without you!"

Kramer shot another burst of bullets toward Slash as the monster ripped open another agents stomach with his talons, spilling his intestines onto the floor in a bloody mess. "Damnit!" He shouted, racing toward the door, grabbing the chimera by the arm. The echoes of gunfire rang out behind them as they dashed down the hall.

When they got to the doors, Walsh turned toward them and, seeing Sonseeahray tried to block the exit. "Leave her, Agent! That monster wants her! You bring her out here and he'll follow us!"

Kramer leveled his rifle in Walsh's face, "Get out of my way, you perverted old man!"

"You killed us all, Agent…for that thing." He absently pointed toward the siren.

"That thing has a name, it's Sonseeahray and you helped create her. So, technically, you killed us. Now get out of my way."

Another eruption of bullets echoed down the hall, followed by screaming. Walsh frowned and pointed a finger at the girl, "Whatever you want to call her, she was created to be a little slut for a bunch of mutant freaks! You're sacrificing our lives for that!"

Fast as a striking snake, Sonseeahray reached out, snatching his arm with her right hand in another smooth movement, brought her left down hard on his elbow, shattering the joint. Walsh cried out and crumpled into a heap in the darkened hallway. "Get out of our bloody way you lecherous tosser!" Sonseeahray snapped.

She quickly moved around him, followed by Kramer. "Head toward stairwell 7A!" Kramer shouted as the pair sprinted down the shadowy corridor.

"Where are the other scientists?" Sonseeahray called back over her shoulder.

"I dunno. Hopefully, they're hiding!"

Another roar erupted from behind them, followed by a word that chilled them both to the core, because it signaled that Slash would be right behind them, "Siren! My…Siren!"

They quickly found the stairwell and rushed inside.

* * *

 _On the 5th Floor…_

The sounds of distant gunfire followed by screams and the echoes of a roar, cascaded down into the meeting room that was occupied by the Turtles and Dr. Gouyen. Their attention snapped toward the floors above them.

Leonardo cursed under his breath, "The steel doors didn't hold!"

Donatello already accessed the computer mounted on his forearm, "Negative. The doors are still intact. It looks like Franken-turtle found another way to get to the people upstairs!"

"Sonseeahray!" Dr. Gouyen gasped. Spinning toward the door, she raced toward the hallway. She heard the voice of one of her new companions call after her, "Hey doc, wait up!"

"We have to save her!" She turned toward the Turtles, "He's after her! He wants her!"

"Slash?" Raphael suggested.

"Yes! One of my colleagues acted like a complete idiot and ignored protocol, enhancing Sonseeahray by ensuring that she produces double the amount of pheromones she would have without his tampering!"

What she was saying hit Donatello first, "Oh, shell…"

"So, what are you sayin'?" Mikey asked.

"Slash intends to rape her!"

"Is that what he was going on about? Ya know, like, not taking what's his?" Mikey asked.

"It's possible," Donatello stated.

"We won't let it happen, Dr. Gouyen," Leo assured her. "But it's probably best if you stay here while we deal with Slash."

"Leo, things just got a bit more complicated," Donnie interjected. "With the girl pumping out double the pheromones and Slash looking to mate her, if we get in the way he'll see us as competition."

"Meaning, he's gonna be a lot meaner and a lot tougher." Raphael finished.

Donatello nodded.

"Great. Fantastic." Raph drew his sai from his belt, "Well, tell ugly to bring it on!"

"Alright, let's get the kid but stay on your toes, guys," Leo stated. "We have a love-sick monster turtle on the loose and he's gonna-"

"Freeze!"

The Turtles and Dr. Gouyen's attention snapped toward the doorway which was filled with EPF agents their rifles leveled at them. Instinctively, Dr. Gouyen raised her hands.

"Déjà vu." Mikey quipped.

"Doctor, step away from the mutants!"

"Agents, please, listen to me! These Turtles are trying to help us and-"

"Doctor, we have orders to terminate any and all terrapins on the premises! Now, step aside, or we'll shoot you, too!"

Somewhere in the distance, the door to the stairwell slammed open, causing the agents to crane their necks toward the sound.

That was enough for the Turtles. Leonardo drew his twin katana and with a quick slash, sliced the muzzle off of the rifles of two agents.

Donatello's staff the rifle of another, knocking it out of his grip.

Raphael's disarmed another two agents with his sai while Michelangelo, with a whirl of his nunchaku, shattered the rifle of another. Then, producing a small, egg-shaped device, Mikey threw the object to the ground in the midst of the agents. "In your face!" Mikey quipped as a plume of black smoke enveloped the group.

Dr. Gouyen doubled over, coughing as the black cloud spread over her. As her eyes began to water, she felt a strong, calloused, three-fingered hand encircle her wrist, pulling her away from the fray. "We're outta here, Doc!" Donatello said to her as he guided her swiftly away from the agents and down the hall.

They dove into the darkened hallway, illuminated periodically by the glow of the red emergency lights, leaving the wheezing agents behind. Donatello stole a glance toward Dr. Gouyen, "Not bad for your first ninja vanish!" He smiled warmly.

Dr. Gouyen's eyes were still watering, "What was in that thing?"

"Potassium nitrate, magnesium, powdered charcoal, some black powder-"

"Does it have to be so blinding?"

"Yeah, it's kind of the point…sorry." Distracted by his conversation with Dr. Gouyen, he nearly ran into his brothers who had stopped cold in the hallway. He quickly followed their gaze toward an EPF agent with his rifle drawn and by his side, a young girl dressed in white body armor.

* * *

 _On the 7th floor…_

Gunfire rang out through the darkened corridor, emanating from the network of labs he just left. A moment later, it was followed by a blood-curdling scream. Walsh knew he had to get to his feet and quickly. It wouldn't be long before Slash cut his way through the EPF agents and found him crumpled on the floor in the hallway.

He couldn't believe that the little bitch attacked him! With strength that even surprised him, she shattered his elbow in one quick movement like it was nothing. "I hope that little bitch gets a bullet in the head…both her and Slash!" He spat. His body screamed out in protest as he pushed to his feet. Almost against his will, he groaned in pain. "Little bitch!"

He made his way down the hall, each step sending another wave of pain through his body. His stomach lurched, filling with bile, threatening to force him to vomit. He choked it back and kept going. He had to find a place to hide, at least until the EPF's reinforcements arrived.

Where were the other scientists, he wondered? Where did they run off to? "Probably found their own hiding spots!" He hissed as another wave of pain passed through him. Stumbling, he found an empty office and huddled down under the desk, cradling his broken arm in the darkness.

The floor had gone deathly quiet. Walsh couldn't decide what was more unnerving, the oppressive silence, or the sound of gunfire and screaming. The stillness, he determined, was somehow worse. He strained to hear anything, but all he heard was his own breathing and the throb of his heartbeat through his ears.

He smelled something before he heard anything. The stench of rotting flesh invaded his nostrils, forcing his stomach to reel, threatening to force him to vomit once again. His lungs heaved under the overbearing stench. He tried to stifle a cough but was unsuccessful. With each spasm from his lungs, another wave of pain from his broken arm washed over him. Finally, he was overcome and vomited beside the desk.

Walsh could feel the air around him became thick with the rancid stench of decaying meat. He could barely breathe. He forced himself to straighten up and take a steadying breath. He closed his eyes and when he opened them the fetor was all around him, pressing in on him like a heavy blanket. He knew that he was not alone. Walsh tried to shrink underneath the desk, fear engulfing him. He started to tremble, emotion welling up in his chest and forming tears in his eyes.

"Yes.." the voice sounded like it was gargling gravel. Walsh could hear the sneer in the creature's words, "…you will die…"


	12. Chapter 12

_Curiosum Labs_

 _7th Floor_

 _6:47 PM_

It would have been better if they had split up, he knew. However, being their boss, his frightened staff looked to him for leadership and that desire prompted them to follow Dr. Marius Schneider and his fiancé, Sarah Pomfret into one of the dark, empty offices occupying the 7th floor.

It almost seemed like a bad dream. Just a few moments ago, he and the core of his team were safely behind the reinforced steel doors leading to the intricate honeycomb of labs dedicated to Project Siren. The next moment, they were all screaming and running for their lives as Project Slash cashed down into the laboratories from the air ventilation system above. He grasped for Sarah's hand as they darted for the doors under the near deafening sound of rapid gunfire and the chilling howls of Slash followed by his staff.

They plunged into the blackened hallway, the crimson emergency lights pulsing through the shadows as they raced down the corridor, their footfalls muffled by the thin industrial carpeting. He found one of the larger offices and all of them ducked inside, closing the door behind them, tucking themselves behind and under the desk as best as they could.

They would have a better chance of surviving this nightmare come-to-life, had they split up. Yet, Dr. Schneider understood. People often make irrational choices when terrified…and to be fair, Slash was quite terrifying. If or when he got out of this alive, he would have to figure out how it was that Slash was able to fool the myriad of tests that all confirmed his death and how it was he was able to deftly slither his massive frame through the air ventilation system. Moreover, if Slash could somehow fake his own death in order to free himself and somehow stretch and compact his own body to fit into tight spaces, what sort of impact would that have on the public should he ever get beyond the walls of Curiosum Labs?

Dr. Schneider was already well aware of his exploits in New York City twelve years ago. He knew well that Slash rebelled against his neurological conditioning, started to suffer from a deteriorating mind and somehow got his claws on a crude nuclear device. If it wasn't for the Mutant Turtles, New York City would be a mass of uninhabitable ruins. After reaquiring Slash, the monster repeatedly yelled only one phrase over and over again, "Kill them all!" It seemed as if he wanted revenge for no other reason than being created and he was willing to take as many people out with him as possible. The memory still sent a chill down his spine. No matter what happened, he knew he could not allow Slash to leave Curiosum Labs.

Dr. Schneider was called back to the present, "What are we going to do now?" One of his team asked, their voice wavering with fear.

Dr. Schneider looked to each of the ten pairs of eyes looking back at him, beseechingly. One of those pairs belonged to his beloved Sarah. "We can't stay here forever. That creature will find us!" She hissed.

Cutting through the darkness, the disembodied scream of a man shattered the oppressive silence, causing each of them to jump. They could hear the man wailing in pain, his pitch rising to a shriek, changing to an inhuman gurgling sound until it abruptly cut off, once again drowning the floor in stillness.

"Walsh." One of the scientists whispered.

Dr. Schneider took a deep breath and turned to his team in the darkness. "Miss Pomfret is right, we can't stay here. To the right of this office, you'll find the closest stairwell marked 7A. When I count to five, I want all of you to rush to it and run downstairs-"

"Downstairs? W-what good will that do?" another scientist stammered.

"If Slash is up here, he's not down there…that's all I need to know!" Still another scientist stated.

"But what about you?" Sarah asked, her hand finding her lover's in the shadows.

Dr. Schneider gave her hand a squeeze. "I-I can't. If there's a way that I can distract him somehow…buy you all time to get away. Perhaps, I could even stop him somehow-"

"No." Sarah was shaking her head. "I'm not going to let you face that thing alone!"

"Dr. Schneider, there's no way you can take on Project Slash by yourself! He has been able to cut through several teams of EPF commandos! What can a geneticist do? You need to come with us!" Kimberly Fierst hissed.

"No, Dr. Fierst. You're going to take my fiancé and the rest of the team and get them downstairs and away from here! Find a place to hide! Reinforcements should be here soon. I'll draw Slash's attention away from rest of you as you make a run for it."

"How will you distract him?" Another scientist asked.

"Surely, a few of the fallen EPF guards still have their weapons nearby. I can grab one of them and try to shoot Slash."

"No way that will work!"

"He's too fast!"

"That hasn't worked at all so far this evening, what makes you think you're going to do better than trained military men?"

"It's better than trying nothing and letting him kill all of us!" Dr. Schneider snapped, "I created Slash and if anyone else is going to die tonight then let him start with me. I won't have him killing any of you. Not as long as I can help it. Now, when I count to five, all of you go!"

Dr. Schneider could see Dr. Fierst nod solemnly in the dark. She knew that his mind was made up. After another deep breath, Dr. Schneider began to count to five. With each number spoken, Fierst's heart pounded stronger in her chest, threatening to burst through her pantsuit, adrenaline rushing through her veins.

"One." They all got to their feet.

"Two." The group moved slowly and quietly toward the closed door.

"Three." Dr. Schneider slowly opened the door, their ears straining for the slightest hint that Slash could be nearby.

"Four." Kimberly Fierst peered out into the hall, her aging eyes squinting to see any movement between each pulse from the emergency lights.

Then, she heard it, "Five!" Dr. Fierst raced down the corridor, followed by five other members of the team. When they reached the stairwell, they each plunged inside, the door closing behind them with a metallic thud.

Dr. Schneider whirled, his eyes leveling on his remaining companions, "What do you think you're doing?! I told you to run!"

Myles Cardwell along with another scientist and Sarah Pomfret exchanged glances.

"I'm not going anywhere without you," Sarah said, her hand finding his. "I said I was going to marry you and I meant it. I haven't said my vows yet, but if death plans on us parting ways then, death can bugger right off! I plan on being with you. Even if it means we die here, together, doing our best to make sure that creature doesn't terrorize England."

"Miss Pomfret's right," Cardwell stated, "This is our fault, really. It's our responsibility to make sure that creature doesn't get out. Or, at the very least, we slow it down enough so that when the EPF reinforcements get here, they can take him out."

The other scientist named Mathew Turner was an older man with gray hair and a thin face, "I served in the British Armed Forces, sir. I may no longer be in the military, but if I can still serve my country this way, I will. Besides, I know my way around weapons. I feel like I could be of some help."

Dr. Schneider furrowed his brow. He could use the help he admitted to himself, but he did not want Sarah to get hurt. He turned to her, "Darling, please…"

Her eyes found him and he knew she wasn't going anywhere, "I'm not leaving you. So you can either take me with you or deal with me following you anyway."

Dr. Schneider sighed, "You are always so bloody stubborn!" He turned back toward the corridor. "Alright then, he whispered. We're going to quickly and quietly head back to the lab…see if we can get our hands on any gun left behind. Then, we find Slash and try to keep him from descending after our friends.

"At best, we stop him. At worst, we don't…but at least we can slow him down long enough until help arrives!" With that, the small group began to creep down the hall back toward the lab…

* * *

 _On the Fifth floor…_

It was strange to her. For as long as she could remember, Sonseeahray had been taught that the Mutant Turtles were her targets. She was to manipulate them using the fact that they were an endangered species: mutant turtles and none of them were female. She was taught that they were threats to the earth-saving plans the EPF had developed and as such, she was to use her feminine wiles to get them to let down their guard in order that she could administer poison or a killing blow by gliding a sharp blade across their necks. She learned about their names, their strengths, and weaknesses, watched surveillance footage and even endured her own rigorous training regimen all in order to, as Dr. Schneider used to say, "…rid the world of its superfluous mutant turtle population."

She didn't give much thought to any of it throughout this sodding evening. Sonseeahray was too preoccupied with thoughts of everyone being violently attacked by Slash. She didn't even think to resist Dr. Gouyen's suggestion that she accompany the very Turtles she was taught were her targets. She was too frightened. For herself, yes. But mostly for Dr. Gouyen and Agent Kramer.

When she and Agent Kramer rushed down to the 5th floor and came face-to-face with the Mutant Turtles, her stomach lurched. She hadn't thought much about it through the night, but she thought about it now. Was she really going to allow herself to run off with these menaces of the EPF?

The group ducked into a shadowy office to regroup and avoid the remaining EPF commandos that were still lurking on the floor…at least for a time. Inside was a large table with a phone system in the middle. The table was surrounded by six chairs and the room decorated with a variety of scientific charts.

"Dr. Gouyen!" Sonseeahray managed, racing forward to embrace the older woman. Dr. Gouyen knelt down and returned the embrace. "I'm so glad you're okay, pretty girl!" Gouyen pulled back and her brown eyes met the chimera's mismatched gaze, "Are you ready to go? The Turtles said they would help you escape."

"I suppose so," Sonseeahray said uncertainly. Her gaze shifted between the four mutant turtles who were focused on her. Though their surroundings were covered in shadow, her keen eyesight could still make out the details of not only each of their faces but their clothing as well. Their expressions were in turn, kind, curious, cautious and skeptical. But none of their eyes reflected cruelty or villainous intentions. As she drank them in, they hardly seemed like them menaces she was told that they were.

Their clothing was faded and the seams were beginning to fray in spots from hard wear and spoke of a life lived hand-to-mouth. Their faces each bore witness to an existence that routinely involved fighting for their lives as each one of them carried a distinctive scar.

A thin but prominent scar traced its way across the face of the turtle wearing a blue mask over his azure eyes; starting above his right eye and ending to the right of the corner of his mouth. The turtle in red carried a scar diagonally across his lips. The one wearing orange had a mark on his chin and the turtle in purple had a thin scar emblazoned upon his left cheek.

Doubtless to Sonseeahray, the rest of their bodies carried far more keepsakes from their various violent encounters. Heck, she had watched several surveillance videos of the quartet engaging not only EPF commandos but ninjas from a clan called The Foot, and the turtle wearing orange had a freshly bandaged leg from a recent injury.

Was she really going to do this? Was she going to leave the only home she'd ever known and run off to…who knows where? The small chimera bit her lip, emotions welling up in her chest and threatening to burst out of her in a flood of tears. She hated to admit it, but she was afraid. She knew about the Turtles, but she didn't know them. Her heart began to pound in her chest.

A million questions flooded her mind: what if she left with them and they ended up sending her to live somewhere else with a complete stranger? What if that stranger turned out to be mean? Or worse yet, what if Sonseeahray did live with the Turtles and became happy, but they ended up deciding that they didn't like her? What then?

There was still time for her to back out. But where would she go? Maybe Dr. Gouyen could find a place in her home somewhere. She chewed her lip, "Are you sure this is the only way?" She asked, turning her attention back to Kushala Gouyen.

"It's the best way, pretty girl."

"But…why can't I stay with you? I could stay in your basement or in your attic. I won't take up too much room and I won't be any trouble! I'll be a good girl, I promise!" She turned to the quartet of mutant turtles, "You'd help me escape to Dr. Gouyen's home, right?"

"The kid don't wanna go…" Raphael muttered to Leonardo.

"Well, technically, we're strangers…" Donatello stated.

"Stranger danger…" Mikey chirped.

"She's scared," Leo observed, his eyes never leaving the girl.

"I'm not scared," Sonseeahray lied. "I just want to be with Dr. Gouyen, that's all."

"Oh honey, I wish you could but my home is the first place the EPF will look for you and-"

"And I'm not a human?" Tears stung the backs of her eyes.

Dr. Gouyen frowned empathetically, her own eyes filling with tears, "No, sweetheart. You're not." She reached out a hand and tenderly caressed the child's cheek.

Leonardo moved forward and knelt down in order to look Sonseeahray in her eyes, "Sonseeahray…" He began, saying her name in such a way as If he were testing it, making sure he was pronouncing it correctly, "My name Is Leonardo and these are my brothers-"

"I know who you and your brothers are," the chimera interrupted flatly. "You all looked taller in the videos I'd seen of you."

Leo sighed, "Of course. You were being trained to fight us, right?"

"I was being trained to kill all of you, technically."

"We're aware," Leo stated, his face expressionless. "I can tell you that this is awkward for me and my brothers, too. And as much as I would love to have a long conversation with you so that we're all more comfortable about this, I'm afraid we just don't have the time." His voice was warm but authoritative.

At that point, Agent Kyle Kramer chimed in, "He's right," The agent turned his attention to Dr. Gouyen, "Things have gone to shit upstairs. Somehow, that-that thing managed to fit its big ass in the ventilation system and got the drop on all of us!"

Dr. Gouyen shot to her feet, fear playing across her features, "What about my team? Dr. Schneider? Miss Pomfret? Dr. Fierst?-"

"Dunno. They ran off…as they should have."

"And your team?"

Kramer shook his head. "That creature was too fast, too strong. I watched it rip the jaw off of Agent Henderson and I heard the screams of agents Gotsis and Payne while retreating with the siren." He furrowed his brow, "The last thing I heard was that creature calling for Sonseeahray. He wants her, doc."

Dr. Gouyen's face was ashen, "Then we need to get as much distance between him and Sonseeahray as possible!"

Raphael interjected, "Wait, how could Slash fit his big ass in the ventilation system?"

Donatello rubbed his chin thoughtfully, "That's new. Perhaps he can collapse part of his system? I once read about animals can squeeze through tight spaces if their heads-"

From somewhere above them, the shriek of a man's scream pierced through the air, followed by shouting from down the hall. The ruckus snapped the small group's attention back to their surroundings.

"Bros, we got EPF goons running around and Franken-turtle on the loose, can we speed this up?"

Leo nodded, "Mikey's right. We gotta get going." He got to his feet, turning his attention to Kramer, "Can you escort Sonseeahray-"

"I'm not going anywhere without Dr. Gouyen! If you're going to help me escape, you have to help her too or I'm not going!"

Raphael stepped forward, "Hey kid, we'll get her out, we promise. But right now, you gotta trust us."

Leo nodded and continued speaking, "Kramer, take Sonseeahary and Dr. Gouyen down to the basement. Head to the morgue. Under the grating in the floor is a series of service tunnels that'll get you out of here unnoticed."

"There is thermo-laser security grid covering that grate, but this will disrupt the system long enough for the three of you to slip through," Donnie said, grabbing a small, black, circular device from the duffel bag hanging at his side and handing it to Dr. Gouyen.

"And what are you four going to do?" Kramer asked.

"We're gonna do what we do best," Raphael began, a wide grin forming on his face, "we're gonna kick some shell!"

"Slash is too dangerous to run the risk of him getting out and terrorizing England. We're going to take him out."

"With extreme prejudice," Mikey added. "I owe him one for my leg."

Dr. Gouyen nodded.

"Alright. Good luck!" Kramer said to the Turtles, "You're going to need it."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," Raph grimaced.

Donatello stole a glance back at the young girl and smiled warmly, "Be careful kiddo." He turned to Kramer, "It…it's a little messy down in the basement. Try to do your best to shield her from seeing…" His voice trailed off before he could finish.

Kramer nodded, understanding that the carnage left in Slash's wake would be inappropriate for the girl to see too much of, "Absolutely." He turned his attention back to Dr. Gouyen and Sonseeahray, "Let's go." Turning back around, the Turtles had already disappeared.

Kramer shrugged. The door to the office was slightly ajar. He approached it an peered outside into the hall. Seeing no one, he motioned for Dr. Gouyen and Sonseeahray to follow him. They quickly found one of the stairwells and entered it, descending to the floors below.

He did not notice that the EPF commandos on the floor had noticed the door to the stairwell close behind them. As such, the men split themselves into two groups, one to investigate the screaming coming from the 7th floor, and the other to follow the rogue agent, the scientist and the Siren.

* * *

 _Elsewhere..._

The four black armored vehicles sped down the roadway, followed by two black helicopters above them. The rain had picked up over the last hour. Wiper blades swung back and forth across the windshield as they press onward in silence. The wind gusted across the landscape causing the driver to twist the steering wheel occasionally, correcting the direction of the truck as the wind threatened to push the heavy vehicle off the road.

Each of the men occupying the armored vehicles and helicopters each wore body armor made from ultra-high-molecular-weight polyethylene or UHMWPE with Kevlar. Each one colored black with gold and red details. All of the men wore a matching black helmet with black tinted visor, completely obscuring their faces. On their backs, they carried a single katana, and on their left hip, a handgun.

In the back of one of the vans which were filled with a vast array of automatic rifles, a group of ten men sat on benches that lined each side of the vehicle. Bathed in crimson from the overhead lighting, a man in black body armor stood up, barked a few orders in Japanese and the men around him began to silently prepare by checking their weapons.

Earlier in the evening, they were dispatched when, predictably, the EPF called for reinforcements in order to quarantine the creature called Project Slash. The EPF ordered fifty men in four vehicles and two helicopters to Curiosum Labs and that's precisely what Curiosum Labs was going to get. Except, they weren't from the EPF.

Intercepting the EPF's backup was simple enough, eliminating them was another matter. On this night, they didn't face the usual quasi-martial-arts-trained criminal organization, they faced off against military-trained soldiers. Yet, they prevailed.

As much as the field leader of this team would have liked to have killed the EPF agents, his employer forbade such measures, stating that killing EPF agents would invite the government agency to try to investigate their affairs more intensely than he was prepared to allow. Instead, his employer gave each member of the team a concoction of heavy drugs like atropine, phenytoin, and morphine to impair the memories of each EPF agent. The drugs were injected into the agents using a specialized handgun and darts. So, as it was, the US government was allowed to keep its agents, but they would remember nothing of the encounter.

The leader of the men could see it now: Curiosum Labs. They passed several housing subdivisions, to come upon a large field and a great building surrounded by a fence. The large structure looked like nothing more than an office building from the outside, but he and his team knew better. They had spent the last few weeks combing over the layout and structural details of the facility. He and his team understood the security system and what would be activated once Slash was allowed to go on a rampage.

Behind the darkened visor, a smile pulled at his lips. He lived for this stuff. He was a sixth-generation ninja master, each of the men by his side was trained by him. Tonight, his students were able to take on black ops agents, but he knew the real test would be subduing and bringing both Slash and the creature known as Project Siren to his employer.

The first black van made a sharp turn to the right, caught a quick glimpse of a frightened security guard in a booth, and crashed right through the security gate, speeding toward the front doors. Three black vans followed, darting between the few remaining cars in the parking lot.

Quickly, the men exited the vehicles and approached the entrance, the two helicopters hovering overhead, strangely making very little noise. Only the very faintest of sounds could be heard from the flying machine that took its design inspiration from the whisper-quiet Viper AH-1Z helicopter. Each of the machines was plated in radar-absorbing materials like carbon black particles and tiny iron spheres.

The leader shouted more orders in Japanese and two men rushed forward toward the reinforced steel plate that blocked the entrance. They each produced several devices and began attaching them to the steel wall.

* * *

 _Upstairs on the 7th Floor…_

Dr. Schneider, Sarah Pomfret, Myles Cardwell and Mathew Turner crept quietly back into toward the laboratories. It seemed counter-intuitive that they would try to return to the very place they escaped from, but like Dr. Schneider suggested, they needed to see if there were any weapons left behind. The reinforced steel door was bent outward at an awkward angle, suggesting that something very large used its brute strength to get out.

Doubtless, that large "something" was Slash.

The quartet of scientists proceeded into the gaping maw, following the darkened hallway back toward the labs, flickering lights and silence their only companions. Soon enough, they looked at the glass windows that once enclosed a large room filled with various computers. A few of the windows had been smashed, their pieces littering the floor and glittering like thousands of diamonds in the pulsing light. A few other windows were grotesquely covered in a strange mix of blood and brains. On the floor, there lay the body of Agent Gotsis, his abdomen was shredded open and his intestines encircled him in a macabre embrace. Pressing forward, they found the broken bodies of the other agents. One of them was missing his jaw. Another one was completely unrecognizable because his head had been smashed.

Sarah Pomfret covered her mouth, stifling a whimper. A wave of sadness and regret enveloped her. All of these men were sworn to protect them. Sure, she had disagreed with them from time to time. Hell, she thought a couple of them were complete arsemongers, but they didn't deserve to die…not like this. Tears stung the backs of her eyes, the smell of bloodied entrails began to invade her nostrils causing her stomach to lurch. Fighting back the urge to vomit, she closed her eyes and drew in a steadying breath. She forced herself to be strong. She had to be. Marius needed her, now more than ever and she couldn't let him down. She couldn't let herself down.

When she reopened her eyes, Miss Pomfret determined that she was not going to faint into a puddle of emotion and fear. She was, after all, a British woman. The British people were strong. Her grandmother and grandfather, not to mention her entire country just a few generations past, survived the Nazi Blitz. **_If they could do that_ ,** she thought to herself, **_I can stand the sight of some blood and gore._**

She bent down next to one of the fallen agents and picked up the rifle that lay next to him. As she looked up, she caught the sight of her beloved Marius looking at her. He seemed sad and almost sorry. Miss Pomfret forced herself to smile, trying her best to reassure him. In return, a faint smile played at his lips before his brow furrowed and he bent down to pick up a rifle at his feet.

The pair was soon joined by Cardwell and Turner, each of them carrying rifles of their own. The small group exchanged glances, each resigned to their fate, whatever that might be. Dr. Schneider then led the way out of the labs, crossing through the dark corridor, leading out to the anterior hallway.

He strained his ears, listening for the faintest of sounds. Somewhere, off to his left, the sound of something wet and thick, carried down the hall toward him. Taking a steadying breath, he glanced back at his companions and motioned with his left hand.

With each step, their hearts pounded in their chests. They knew they were doing the right thing, trying to buy time for the other scientists until help arrived, but it was still terrifying. The emergency lights pulsed overhead, bathing the corridor in crimson, then fading back to blackness. Passing the bank of elevators, they pressed on, taking notice of the elevator shaft that looked as if it had been forced open by Slash's large, clawed hands. Myles Cardwell swallowed hard as he glanced at the broken elevator door, recalling Agent Gotsis and his shredded abdomen.

As they inched forward, the strange, wet sound became more prominent. The group rounded the corner heading to the left and saw the carpeting in the hall drenched with a dark liquid that leading into one of the adjacent offices. The breath caught in Dr. Schneider's throat and his stomach twisted into knots. He raised his rifle awkwardly and pushed forward.

Stopping at the dark liquid staining the carpet, they turned toward their right, eyes squinting to make out any shapes in the shadows. The odd, wet sound was stronger and they could now tell that the sound was that of chewing and the ripping of flesh.

A shadow moved in the darkness and Dr. Schneider could see the massive frame of Slash, his spiny carapace facing them, hovering over the body of Dr. Walsh. Slash took one of his clawed hands and shoved it into Walsh's abdomen, yanking and tearing free a dark, blood-soaked organ with a wet ripping sound and brought it to his mouth. His serrated teeth eagerly snapped up the fresh meat like an animal in the wild.

Frozen by both disgust and fear, the scientists could barely move. That is until Slash suddenly stopped. A low rumbling began somewhere deep in the creature's chest, moving upward toward to its throat where it became a growl. Slowly Slash turned, his one golden eye focusing on the four humans who stood in the doorway guns drawn.

It was Mathew Turner who was the first to fire, followed by the rest. Flashes of bright light from their firing rifles illuminated the dark office, accentuating the visceral hatred in Slash's face. With lightning fast reflexes, the creature struck out with his hands, connecting with Turner's arm, ripping it from its socket in a crimson spray. Turner wailed before being struck again across the face, nearly cleaving his head from his body.

Slash spun, facing the rest of the group. Cardwell fired his rifle, one bullet hitting its mark on the creature's right shoulder leaving a small red pockmark where the bullet entered. Blood started to flow from the wound and Slash roared in both pain and anger. He fixed his gaze on Cardwell and the scientist bore Slash's full wrath.

The creature snapped the scientist up into his grasp with both hands and in one smooth motion, yanked Cardwell's left arm and right leg off of his body, sending bloody droplets into the air, coating the walls around them. Myles shrieked in such a way where he sounded more animal than human before Slash dropped his limp frame to the floor.

Dr. Schneider and Miss Pomfret were able to get a few more shots off. One bullet struck Slash in the right thigh, and another grazed his left arm before their rifles ran out of ammunition. The pair dropped their guns and turned on their heels, racing down the hall away from Slash. Roaring, Slash gave chase in spite of his injuries.

Darting down the corridor, Dr. Schneider and Miss Pomfret raced toward the nearest stairwell, their shallow breaths forced their way through tight chests while their footfalls were muffled by the carpeting. As they sprinted down the hall, Dr. Schneider knew they couldn't outrun Slash. But he had to get Sarah to run.

"Keep running, darling! Don't look back!" He shouted at her, her small frame just a few arms lengths ahead of him. He could see that she quickened her pace.

Good. In the few seconds that it would take Slash to kill him, she could escape. **_Keep running my love. Don't look back._**

Dr. Schneider slowed down to a jog until he came to a complete stop in the hall. He turned around and Slash was right there, his cracked lips pulled back into a snarl.

A strange calm fell over Marius then, "Come on, then, Slash. Get on with it. I created you, now end me. Finish it."

Down at the other end of the hall, Sarah Pomfret had reached the stairwell. Turning to look behind her, she watched as Slash grabbed Marius with both hands, leaned forward, his mouth descending over Dr. Schneider's neck and in the blink of an eye, ripped his throat out with serrated teeth.

Sarah screamed and rushed toward Marius as Slash dropped his lifeless body to the floor. "Marius! Marius, no!" Hot tears streamed down her cheeks and blinding her to her surroundings.

Oblivious to the creature who still stood nearby, when she reached Marius's body, she fell to her knees and encircled her arms around him. She began to sob heavily, murmuring incoherently. Then, she heard the low rumble of Slash's voice, "…you…you die now."

Sarah looked up at the creature towering over her. Tears continued to stream down her face even though her expression was placid. She stared into that one, large, yellow eye for a moment, then put her head down. "I told you I wasn't going to leave you, darling." She whispered into Marius's unhearing ear.

She never saw the clawed hand that swung down taking off both her head and Marius's in one motion.

* * *

 _At the other end of the 7th Floor…_

The four brothers quietly entered the floor with expert precision. The floor looked a lot like the others had: dark and ominous.

"Keep your eyes peeled, guys. Slash is more clever than he lets on…even with his mind half-gone." Leo hissed. "Donnie, find the computer lab and download as much information as you can as quickly as you can. The more we know about what Bishop is cooking up, the better. The moment you're done rendezvous with us and help us take out Slash. We'll need you. The rest of you, with me."

His brothers nodded in response. Donatello swiftly headed off to their left, while Leonardo, Raphael, and Michelangelo went right.

Their ninja training allowed them to take advantage of the dim illumination from the emergency lights. They learned a long time ago that the shadows were part of who they were as shinobi. They could embrace the darkness like a cloak and wear it to their profit.

The three brothers quickly moved down the hall, but it wasn't long before they encountered the bodies of two scientists laying in the hallway. Fresh blood dripped from the walls and pooled onto the carpeted floor below. A few scattered rifles lay around the men. One was missing an arm and a leg. The other man was barely recognizable as human.

"This is fresh," Raph hissed, taking in the scene.

"He's close. Stay on your toes," Leo reminded them.

Inching forward the three brothers drew their weapons, their senses kicked into high gear searching for any indication of where Slash could be hiding out on the floor. They rounded a corner and started down the corridor. The emergency lights periodically flooding the hallway with an eerie red glow before fading and allowing the shadows to close in around them again. The Turtles didn't mind. They liked the dark.

Soon, they came upon the bodies of a man and a woman, their heads severed from their bodies and crushed, blood encircling the couple where they lay. Mikey grimaced. It was a sad picture. The woman's arms were still lovingly wrapped around the man's body. Gingerly, the brothers moved around the corpses, moving deeper into the hallway. With each step, the scent of rotting flesh grew stronger.

Raphael picked up movement out of the corner of his eye. Instinctively, he whirled, narrowly missing one of Slash's clawed hands.

"Where…Siren…where?!" Slash yelled with vocal chords that should not have been working.

Raph swung upward with his sai, the pointed end connecting with the creature's forearm, slicing a chunk of meat off, blood mixed with puss oozed from the new wound.

Slash roared and tried to pivot, but Mikey was already there, his nunchaku came down hard on Slash's carapace, chipping the creature's boney armor.

Leonardo followed his brother with a slice of his dual katana. Coming downward in an arc, one of his swords was able to cut off a large, clawed finger. Spinning and howling in pain, Slash barely missed the other blade cutting off his arm. Instead, the sword connected with the edge of his carapace, chipping away another piece of natural armor.

Raph moved in again, "Turtle or no, you gotta go!"

Slash was ready this time, he lashed out, kicking Raph with one of his thick legs, sending the crimson-clad turtle through the air. Raph landed on his back several feet away, the hit knocking the air out of him. Coughing, he quickly recovered, getting back to his feet and headed back toward the fray.

* * *

 _Elsewhere on the 7th Floor…_

The bespectacled turtle was able to quickly find the computer laboratory he needed in order to download as much information as he could from Curiosum Lab's server. It wasn't terribly hard really. The reinforced steel door had already been wrenched open. He followed the hallway and once again encountered Slash's macabre handiwork. Men lay all around him in pools of blood and gore.

Donnie had frowned when he first entered the lab. His stomach tightened up in knots. He didn't like the EPF as much as the next turtle, but the amount of cruelty that was exhibited in the deaths of the men around him, in all of the bodies he had seen tonight, broke his heart and he knew he wouldn't soon forget it.

He grabbed a device he created from his duffel bag, found a relatively undisturbed computer and connected it. It was a simple apparatus that could be plugged into any USB port and quickly link up to a system's main server and copy files with rapid precision.

Slash's roar made Donatello's head snap up. From somewhere in the distance, he could hear his brothers violently engaging the monster responsible for the slaughter that drenched the halls of Curiosum Labs.

Donnie quickly turned his attention back to the computer screen, "Go, go, go, go…!" He urged the device as it copied files from the main server. He checked the progress and saw that it was only at twenty-four percent. "C'mon…c'mon…!"

He furrowed his brow. He knew he couldn't use his willpower to force the device to work faster. So, the turned his attention to the large safe in the corner of the room. In a few strides, he crossed the distance that separated him from the massive steel door and uncovered the small electrical panel to the door's left. Pulling out a small connecting wire from the computer mounted on his wrist, he connected it to a hidden port on the panel.

In a flash of colors, the virtual screen appeared before his eyes. Donatello's long fingers became a blur of motion as he interacted with the projection, trying to crack the safe's code. Occasionally, a red flash would appear before him, alerting him that he had failed. Donnie bit his lip as he continued working. Another red flash, then another passed before his green-gold eyes.

Small beads of sweat began to form on his brow and he cursed under his breath. Another red flash, and then another. However, Donatello kept working. His brothers were depending on him to complete his part of their mission and he determined that he was not going to let them down. Moments passed and it began to feel like he had finally met his match. But then, suddenly, almost miraculously, a flash of green passed across the screen, signaling that the code had been broken and access to the safe, granted.

"Yes!" Donnie shouted, uncaring if anyone heard him. He quickly detached the small cable from his computer and opened the door, walking inside.

The interior of the safe was long and illuminated by two overhead lights: one toward the opening, the other toward the back. Shelves lined each side and were also illuminated as well, casting an eerie blue-white glow onto the items that rested upon them. Thankfully for Donatello, the items were all labeled. He scanned the shelves and quickly found the vials containing the DNA from him and his brothers. Donnie zipped open his duffel bag and placed the vials inside.

Scanning his surroundings once more, he took in the various biological samples that lined the shelves. He immediately recognized labels from Project Slash and Project Siren. He also noticed labels he didn't recognize. Designations like Project Genesis, Project Yokai, and Project Ragnarok.

"Well, let's see what you guys were up to, eh?" In a flash, Donatello began emptying the shelves, placing the various contents in his duffel bag.

From somewhere in the distance, Donnie heard the sound of a door slamming against a wall, followed by the muffled footfalls of several people racing down the anterior hallway, approaching the laboratory where he was. Donatello swiped another item and shoved it into the bag that hung at his side which was now bulging and weighted down by the various objects inside it.

Donatello exited the safe and swiftly crossed the distance to the computer he attached his device to. Checking the screen he saw that it was only ninety-two percent done.

"Freeze, turtle-freak!"

He looked up and saw two EPF agents looking back at him, rifles leveled in his direction.

The bespectacled turtled grimaced, "'Turtle-freak'? Really? That's the best you guys can come up with?" He straightened up to his full height, his right hand hovering over the metallic rod tucked into his belt.

"Shut up! Don't move and step away from the computer!" One of the agents barked. He was a stocky man with a square jaw, his eyes hidden behind the standard red visor of the EPF.

"Do you want me to step away from the computer, or not move? Which one is it?" In a flash, Donatello grabbed the rod in his belt, tapped a button, and the collapsed staff extended to its full length. In a blur of speed, Donnie thrust outward with his bo, striking the first EPF agent's rifle from his hands then, before the second agent could react, he spun his staff toward the man, sweeping downward, hitting the rifle across the barrel and knocking it from the agent's grip.

The first agent was upon Donnie then, lunging forward with a punch leveled at his face. Donatello dodged the strike and deflected the kick that followed it with his bo. With a twirl of his staff, Donnie brought it downward, cracking the agent's helmet, disorienting him.

It was then that the second agent lept forward, colliding with the bespectacled turtle, his full body weight forcing them to the ground. Donatello caught braced himself, keeping his own weight from crushing the contents in his bulging duffel bag by mere inches.

The first agent rushed forward and kicked outward, hoping his boot would connect with Donatello's jaw. Rolling to his side, he missed the kick and struck outward with his bo, sweeping the agent's feet and forcing him to the ground on his back. In a flash, Donnie was once again on his feet and delivered another thrusting strike with his staff. Yet this time, once the bo connected with the agent's armored chest plate, he pushed a small, hidden button and the tips of his staff came alive with electricity. The current surged through the first agent's frame, overloading his system and knocking him unconscious.

Donatello felt a heavy object collide with his carapace, shattered pieces of a chair rained down around him; the force of the impact knocking him to his knees. He turned in time to see the second agent kick toward him, his boot connecting with Donnie's left arm, right above his elbow. The kick caused the turtle to tumble backward with a grunt of pain. _That'll leave a mark._ He thought before rolling to his right and back onto his feet, narrowly missing another kick.

The second agent stuck out with a punch, but Donnie was ready, he spun his staff upward, hooking the agent's right arm and with a twist of his shoulders, Donatello brought the other end of his bo toward the agent's face, striking him in the jaw, causing a tooth to come loose. With another push of a button, the tips of the staff were once again alive with a short burst of electricity, knocking the second agent unconscious.

Donnie stood for a moment looking down at the two agents. He almost felt sorry for them. It wasn't their fault that they didn't understand that he and his brothers were "the good guys" in all this. He grimaced, almost hating having to leave them there, knowing that he and his brothers would soon demolish the building with the C4 they placed in the basement.

 _ **I can't just leave them here to die**. **I should at least give them a chance to survive** …_Donatello thought. He quickly scanned his surroundings and determined the structural integrity of the safe would give the two agents the best chance to survive the explosion. In a few moments, he had successfully dragged the two men into the safe and closed the door behind him. Then, crossing the room, went back to the computer where his device was still connected. He looked at the screen and saw the magic number he wanted: one hundred percent complete!

"Damn, I'm good!" he whispered, allowing a faint smile to tug at his lips as he snatched the device from the computer tower and pocketed it.

Gunfire erupted from somewhere on the floor, followed by shouting of more men and Donnie felt his small victory meltaway. He had to get back to his brothers. They needed him. Swift as his legs could carry him, he raced toward the ruckus.

* * *

Elsewhere in the building…

He opted to cover their backs as the trio raced down flight after flight of stairs. Besides, Sonseeahray was the fastest even with her small size and was nearly dragging Dr. Gouyen behind her. A few times already, Agent Kramer had to rush up behind Dr. Gouyen and help her to her feet amidst a shower of apologies from the young girl who apparently tended to forget just how fast she was. Had Kramer decided to take the point, doubtlessly, the girl would have run him over.

He hit the landing and glanced at the designation on the wall 3B. _**Almost there**. _He thought as he rounded the corner and jumped, landing in the middle of a flight of stairs, nearly losing his footing. He recovered quickly and nearly ran into the doctor and the chimera who were standing on the landing with a bright yellow designation of 2B.

"Move, Sonseeahray!" Kramer barked.

The girl sniffed the air. "We're being followed."

"What?"

Suddenly, the concrete stairwell was filled with the sounds of men and boots echoing down to them.

"Shit."

The chimera shot a glance toward the door at her right, opening up to the second floor. In an instant, she pulled open the door and rushed inside, dragging Dr. Gouyen in after her.

"What are you doing?" The scientist asked as they rushed down the darkened hallway, the bright red emergency lights occasionally bathing them in an eerie crimson.

"Trying to put some distance between us and the other agents, Dr. Gouyen!"

Agent Kramer rushed after them, the door closing with a loud, metallic thud. Kramer winced, knowing that the sound would give away their position to their pursuers.

They quickly reached the apex of the corridor and turned to their right, heading toward the stairwell marked 2C. Kramer stole a glance over his shoulder before rounding the corner and confirmed his fear: five agents poured through the doorway from the stairwell they just left.

"Move, move, move!" Kramer called out to Sonseeahray and Dr. Gouyen, "They're right behind us!"

"Identify yourself, Agent!" A voice called out to him, but Kramer didn't listen or respond he only sprinted down the hallway after Dr. Gouyen and the chimera, plunging into the stairwell, and hurried down another flight of stairs.

 ** _Almost there…_** he thought to himself. **_Almost there…_**


	13. Chapter 13

_Curiosum Labs_

 _7th floor_

 _6:55 PM_

Leonardo parried with his katana, deflecting a blow from Slash. The creature roared with anger and struck out with a kick, but the blue-clad turtle was ready and deftly dodged the strike. However, with speed that defied logic, Slash came at him again with a clawed hand, catching Leo with one of his talons right across his left bicep, opening his green flesh.

Blood began to run down Leonardo's arm in ruby-red rivulets. Leo hissed in pain, swiftly dodging another blow, but didn't drop his sword. He deflected yet another blow and recovered quickly, striking out with a kick of his own which landed squarely in Slash's midsection.

The large turtle stumbled, but before Leo could strike again, the massive creature punched outward, hitting Leo the right shoulder, popping the joint out of its socket and sending the eldest of the Turtles hurtling backward. The force with which Leonardo hit the wall behind him, caused his carapace to leave a large dent in the wall, the plaster and paint crumbling around him. His right arm dropped his sword then, unable to move it due to the dislocation.

Raphael rushed forward then, and with his sai, he took Slash by surprise. "For my brother, Leo!" His left sai penetrated the flesh connecting his neck to his shoulder, burying the _monouchi_ nearly to the _yoku_.

Slash once again howled in pain.

"You wanted angry, ugly?! I'll give you angry!" Wild-eyed, Raph allowed his rage to take control of his senses and flood his body. His green-gold eyes seemed to turn completely gold, as his fury washed over him. He plunged his right sai deep into the wound that was by Leonardo's katana during their earlier scuffle.

Slash reared, his large frame spasmed as the pain spread through his body. He roared again, spinning on his heels, his hands clawing at Raphael trying to get the red-clad turtle off of him.

As Raphael struggled to remove his weapons from Slash's body, a clawed hand found Raph's leg. Grabbing ahold of it, Slash's claws buried deep into Raphael's thigh, causing the turtle to grunt in pain before the creature flung him across the hall with enough force to send him tumbling through the air and nearly crushing his brother, Michelangelo, who was at the other end of the corridor.

Mikey narrowly missed being flattened by his brother, however, one EPF agent wasn't so lucky. Raph's hard shell collided with the commando, forcing him to the ground and crushing his ribs under the turtle's weight.

Ever since they were joined by three EPF agents, Michelangelo had rushed forward, occupying himself with the battling the military men while Leo and Raph tangled with Slash. He had already successfully taken out one agent, and now with a second agent incapacitated, he turned to the remaining commando who still had his rifle leveled at the orange-clad turtle.

"Dude, you can keep pointing that thing at me and get your ass kicked, or you can try to help me and my bros take out Slash, your choice," Mikey stated, his nunchaku still whirling in his hands.

The commando hesitated. His attention moved between Mikey and Raphael, who growled as he stood up.

Suddenly, the agent's body arched backward as he shouted in pain, bright blue-white fingers caressed the sides of his helmet before he crumpled to the ground in a heap, revealing that was Donatello standing behind him. The bespectacled turtle gave his staff a whirl as a smile tugged at his lips, "He hesitated, so I decided for him."

Mikey grimaced, "Bro, I wanted to whack him!" He shook his head, "Sometimes Donnie, you can be really selfish!" He turned his attention to Raphael and saw dark streams of blood cascading down one of his muscular, green legs. "Raph, you need to get bandaged up!"

"Later, we gotta help Leo!" With that, Raph was sprinting down the hall, ignoring the pain in his leg that screamed for him to stop.

At the other end of the corridor, Leonardo was fighting off Slash with one hand, his right arm dangling helplessly at his side.

Leo caught a blow on his katana's _tsuba_ and spun on his heel, twirling his blade with a flash of grace and deadly precision, he slashed forward, the _kissaki_ , or point, of his sword was able to dig into Slash's plastron, carving out a groove deep enough so that foul-smelling blood began to flow. Another nimble spin and Leo brought the _ha_ , or edge, of his sword downward in a near-balletic arc, catching Slash above his right elbow, severing his forearm from his body in a spray of crimson.

The monstrous Slash shrieked in agony, kicking outward, his powerful leg caught Leo in the stomach sending him careening backward.

If Slash expected a reprieve, he didn't get one.

"It's you and me, ugly!" Raphael was upon him before he could make another move. The two of them tumbling to the floor, rolling together until their struggle brought them to the elevators.

Raphael, taking advantage of his position above Slash, let loose a storm of punches to the creature's face, knocking a few of his serrated teeth loose. Slash responded with a roar and lashed out, grabbing Raphael with his left hand, claws digging into the flesh of Raphael's shoulder and tossing him to the side like a ragdoll as he clamored to his feet.

Donatello was on him then, his staff sweeping toward his ankles, causing Slash to dodge the strike. Blood poured from Slash's wounded arm as he spun again, narrowly missing Michelangelo's nunchaku connecting with his head. Trying to avoid Mikey's attack, he found himself running into a strike from Donnie's _bo_ , the tip of the staff once again coming alive with electricity, forcing the half-turtle, half-alien creature to his knees.

Slashed roared again, his eyes wildly shifting between the four turtles who surrounded him.

"I wish it didn't have to be this way, Slash. As a fellow turtle, I would have liked to have been able to reach you somehow, give you a chance for a different life. But you've killed too many people and you're far too dangerous for us to allow you to walk out of here." Leonardo said somberly.

"Life?" Slash croaked, "There is no life…only the shadow…only death!" He lunged forward, but the Turtles anticipated it and were able to dodge the first attack. Raphael jumped forward, his hands closing around the tsuka, his momentum jarring the weapons free.

Slash's body arched in pain as he let out another roar. The brothers took turns kicking and pummeling the creature. With each effort to dodge a hit from one turtle, Slash collided with a blow delivered from another.

 _Must…leave…must…escape…_ Frayed thoughts tumbled through Slash's mind. But it was too late. The four brothers had managed to back him up to the open elevator shaft and with a mighty kick, Raphael sent the massive hybrid careening end over end into the blackened maw.

"Have a nice trip," Raph spat.

Claps of thunder were heard echoing back up to the Turtles each time Slash's body hit the wall. Slash tried to reach out and grab the thick, metal cable hanging in the center of the shaft, but the force of his body falling somehow was able to snap it, sending the counterweight crashing down.

The Turtles leaped backward in order to avoid being hit by any debris.

"You think he survived that?" Mikey asked.

"Knowing Slash? Probably. That turtle has more lives than a cat!" Raph spat.

Donnie moved to Leonardo's side and with a swift yank of his right arm, popped his brother's shoulder back into its joint. Leo gave a grunt of pain but shook it off even though agony pulsed through his body. He turned and rushed back to pick up his dropped katana.

Mikey looked at Raphael, "Bro, you need to be patched up."

"We ain't got time for that, little bro."

"At least lemme get some cauterizing powder on those wounds, bro. We can't have you bleeding everywhere!"

"Those cuts look pretty deep, Raph. Let him help you out." Donnie chimed in.

"Do it quickly. We have to get down to the basement and help Dr. Gouyen, Agent Kramer, and the kid!" Leo stated, returning to the group.

Raphael grumbled. "Fine. Hurry up, though!"

A soft chirp emanated from the computer mounted on Donatello's forearm. He quickly tapped a few buttons, the virtual computer screen appearing before them again. "Uh-oh."

"Don't tell me…" Raph hissed as Mikey worked on his wounds.

"We got company…"

* * *

 _On the 1st Floor…_

While running through the building, Sonseeahray's senses were assailed by the scents of blood and Slash's own rotting flesh. However, she had managed to avoid seeing the handiwork of the turtle-alien hybrid…until now. The corpses of three men lay in pools of their own blood like some sort of macabre décor.

The chimera briskly walked around the bodies, her stomach in knots, fearful of lingering for too long, yet not wanting to Dr. Gouyen to tumble again and accidentally bring her face-to-face with one of the fallen men.

 _I'm brave, I'm strong…keep calm, carry on._ Sonseeahray thought as she led the doctor around another body outlined in dark crimson fluid. Gouyen covered her mouth and sobbed, her heart breaking at the horror before her. Agent Kramer brought up the rear, his brow furrowing at the sight.

They crossed the expanse of the main lobby when, like a clap of thunder, a massive crash rang out from inside one of the elevator shafts. The trio snapped their heads toward the direction, each of their hearts pounding in their chests.

An eerie stillness followed the deafening cacophony.

"We need to go…" Sonseeahray whispered, "We need to go now!"

Just then, Slash ripped open the steel doors to the elevator shaft and leaped forward in a cloud of debris with a loud roar, "Siren!"

"Run!" Kramer shouted as he opened fire on the creature. Slash rushed forward when suddenly, a door to one of the stairwells opened at that instant and five EPF agents poured out into the lobby.

"Take the creature down!" one of the agents shouted and the five men turned their rifles on Slash.

Slash spun toward the five commandoes then, and with swift precision clawed off the face of one of the agents. He turned to another and with his one good arm, cleaved his rifle and opened his abdomen, spilling his intestines onto the floor. In a flash, he was on a third, hitting him with such force that he sailed through the air, crashing down on top of Kramer, knocking him to the floor.

"Kyle!" Sonseeahray shouted.

She went to rush forward, but Dr. Gouyen grabbed her arm, "Honey, no! We gotta run! If you don't get out of here, then everything Agent Kramer and I tried to do tonight will be for nothing!"

"I can't leave him! This is about me! Slash killing these people because of me!" The girl drew in a deep breath, determination filling her mismatched eyes, "You go. Run. Go to your daughters!"

"Sonseeahray-"

"Go. Now!" She yelled, flashing fang, "I was made to kill turtles. Let me do it!" She didn't allow Gouyen to argue as she raced forward, squaring her shoulders, she lowered her center of gravity to her hips and drew up her hands toward her face, pressing her claws outward.

"Slash, leave them alone!" She yelled. "If you want me, here I am!"

The creature stomped downward, crushing the fourth agent's head beneath his foot, splattering pieces of skull and brains in red streaks across the floor. He looked over at her with his one golden eye and a smile tugged at his cracked lips. "Siren." He growled, walking forward.

Her stomach dropped. Fear licking at her senses. Her arms and legs began to tremble uncontrollably. _I'm brave, I'm strong…keep calm, carry on_. She repeated the words over and over in her mind like a mantra, though, to no avail. She didn't feel brave or strong starring down the monster before her who stalked toward her like a large cat who just caught a mouse. He seemed oblivious to the various wounds all over his body, even though a strange mix of blood and a clear liquid oozed from his severed limb.

"No fear me, Siren…Slash…Siren mate…"

"I don't think so! You're not touching that kid!" Kyle Kramer lunged forward, "Run, Sonseeahray!"

"Kyle!"

Slash grabbed the agent in a swift movement, his claws digging in and puncturing his body armor, reaching the tender flesh beneath, and lunged with his teeth, but the agent Slash had sent sailing scrambled to his feet and opened fire with his rifle, striking Slash in the chest, right beneath his right shoulder. Slash snarled and threw Kramer toward the other agent, the bullets from the rifle penetrating Kramer's armor before they collided and they crumpled into a pile on the floor.

Fury took over then, usurping her fear and burying it beneath a wave of adrenaline. Sonseeahray rushed forward and slashed with her claws. Slash dodged the blow and countered with a blow of his own, his fist cracking her on the back of the head, shattering the helmet that she wore, forcing her to her knees. He quickly kicked her in the abdomen, knocking the wind out of her lungs.

The small chimera coughed and wheezed as she tried to catch her breath, but he kicked her again, this time, harder than before, cracking one of her ribs. Sonseeahray crumpled to the floor, waves of pain coursing through her small frame. She struggled to catch her breath and instead found herself vomiting.

Slash grabbed the nape of her neck with his good hand and lifted her off the ground, bringing her face close to his. The stench of his rotting flesh filled her nostrils, threatening to cause her to vomit once more. She shut her eyes, not wanting to look at him.

"Look…look at Slash…"

Almost against her own will she forced herself to look upon him and was horrified by what she saw: a face with skin nearly decaying off of his living body. Serrated teeth behind cracked and bleeding lips, and one golden eye.

"Mate...Slash mate…"

"Don't bloody touch me you plug-ugly muppet!" she managed between attempts to catch her breath.

He squeezed her neck with his hand causing fireworks of pain to explode behind her eyes.

"Slash…mate…"

"No!" She shouted, digging her claws into the arm that held her, and in one swift movement, yanked two chunks of flesh free in a spray of blood and puss.

Slash threw her to the ground with such force that her left shoulder dislocated. He kicked her, sending her small frame careening across the floor. She tried to get to her feet, but he was already there and in a blur of speed, he clawed at her back, his talons ripping through the lightweight armor and creating deep fissures in her carapace, causing streams of hot red blood to pour from the wound, staining her white practice armor crimson.

Dr. Gouyen screamed and rushed forward. Slash knocked the scientist backward, swatting her away with his closed fist, blood spraying from her mouth. Her frame landed near Kramer's and she looked over to the fallen agent who lay wincing in pain, blood beginning to pool around his body.

She stole a glance back at Slash who lowered himself over Sonseeahray's motionless frame. Her eyes met the chimera's and her heart ached with the fear she saw there. Slash clawed free the girl's practice breeches and heard the small girl whimper. Dr. Gouyen's eyes stung with tears and she grabbed the rifle from the other agent who had been knocked unconscious.

"Doc, don't! You might hit Sonseeahray…" Kramer managed as he struggled for breath.

"I can't let him hurt her!" Dr. Gouyen stood up, and said a silent prayer to her ancestors, _Please…help us!_

The steel shutters covering the front sliding doors exploded, the force of the blast knocking Slash onto his back and Dr. Gouyen off her feet. A cloud of debris covered the lobby, shards of metal, steel, and glass raining through the air.

Gouyen curled into a ball, trying to protect her face. Yet, a shard of glass punctured her shoulder. She glanced over to Kramer who took a shard of metal in the thigh and the unconscious agent, unfortunately, had a shard of metal penetrate the red visor and pierce his eye, stabbing his brain and killing him. She looked back at Sonseeahray and saw that the chimera was curled in a ball, trying to shield herself but a few shards of glass had found her legs.

Dr. Gouyen pulled herself to her feet, shaking her head, trying to rid herself of the ringing in her ears that the deafening blast left in its wake. She stumbled toward the small chimera as men dressed in black body armor began to pour in through the gaping maw the detonation opened. Dr. Gouyen collapsed to the floor next to the girl and tried to scoop her up in her arm, "We…we gotta go, pretty girl."

All of the men carried a katana in their right hands and a handgun in their left except for five men who entered the lobby first. They carried strange-looking rifles. The five men lowered their guns toward Slash who was dazed and shaking off his disorientation. By the time he realized the men were targeting him, it was too late. The five men unleashed a hail of darts, the vast majority of them hitting their mark, pumping the creature full of a highly potent tranquilizer.

In a matter of moments, Slash collapsed into a heap and with military precision, a group of men filed into the lobby with an apparatus that looked like a metallic gurney. They quickly strapped Slash to the apparatus while another man was shouting orders in Japanese.

A door from one of the stairwells slammed open, followed by the sound of numerous feet racing toward them. In a matter of moments, Dr. Fierst and five other scientists poured into the lobby. They watched as some of the men in black took Slash out of the building on the gurney.

One of the scientists stepped forward, an older man in his late fifties wearing a pair of wire-rimmed glasses. "Do you have any idea what that creature has done? Aren't you going to put him down? I thought Bishop gave the order to kill it and-"

Dr. Fierst interrupted him, "Charles…" she stated…her voice cracking with fear as her gaze jumped between each of the armed men in front of them, "These men aren't from the EPF…"

The older scientist turned to look at her, "What are you saying, Dr. Fierst?" He didn't notice one of the men stalking toward him quietly.

"I'm saying, they're not EPF! Everyone, run!"

But Dr. Fierst's warning came too late. Crossing the distance between himself and Charles, the man in black raised his gun and without saying a word, put a bullet in the scientist's head, bits of brain and skull spraying in the air in a crimson arc, causing the scientists, Kramer and Gouyen to cry out.

As if on cue, the other men in body armor opened fire on the remaining scientists. Dr. Fierst taking two bullets in the chest. The remaining four tried to escape but found that they could not outrun a hail of ammunition.

Dr. Gouyen screamed, cradling the near-motionless chimera close to her chest.

"You bastards!" Agent Kramer cried out. Kyle drew in a deep, shuddering breath. "You have no idea who you're dealing with. Agent Bishop will not stand for this! He'll hunt you down and make you wish you never got involved in his business!"

A few of the men in black stalked over to Agent Kramer.

"We're aware of Bishop. Our employer has already made…arrangements for the American." One man said, then put two bullets in the young agent's head.

They then turned their attention to Dr. Gouyen who was on the other side of the lobby, sobbing heavily as she cradled the bleeding and barely conscious Sonseeahray in her arms. She heard the men say something to each other in Japanese, the only thing she could make out was the word "Siren" which they said in heavily-accented English.

Another man stepped forward, a man who seemed to be the leader of the group and said something to her in Japanese. His voice was deep and commanding. Somehow, she knew that he wanted Sonseeahray. He began to stalk toward her, sword in his right hand, gun in his left.

Dr. Gouyen jumped to her feet, carrying the young chimera in her arms. She turned on her heel and tried to sprint toward one of the stairwells. She raced as fast as her legs could carry her, Sonseeahray's dead weight in her arms slowing her down.

Dr. Kushala Gouyen heard the gunshots before she felt them and when she did feel them, it wasn't at all what she expected a gunshot to feel like, that is, if she ever expected it at all. The feeling was a strange mix of being punched and getting stung.

The first bullet caught her in the left shoulder, the second on her hip and the third passed through her left thigh. It was less than a second and her body understood that something was terribly wrong. Pain coursed through her frame and she collapsed onto the floor with the chimera still in her arms. That's when the blood started to flow. She couldn't move. It was like she was in some sort of suspended animation.

Her eyes connected to the Sonseeahray's then. The little girl's delicate features were twisted in pain and sadness. Color already started to leave her face as her own wounds continued to bleed. She willed her hand to move and somehow, her right hand was able to reach forward and grab the Chimera's.

Sonseeahray's hand closed around Dr. Gouyen's. She could see the blood begin to pool around the scientist and she began to sob. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw one of the men in black approach and level the barrel of his gun toward Dr. Gouyen's head, "I'm so sorry mummy…" She whispered.

"It's okay, pretty girl." She replied weakly.

Before the man could pull the trigger, the hall was filled with black smoke followed by a hail of shuriken that forced him to jump out of the way. A couple of the throwing stars took another man in black in the chest, breaching the body armor and burying itself deep in his chest. The man collapsed into a motionless heap on the floor.

"Step away from the ladies, jackass!" Raphael shouted.

"Woah, who the hell are these guys?!" Michelangelo asked as the four turtles rushed into the lobby under the cover of their smoke bombs.

Before reaching the 1st floor, they realized that fifty men with armored vehicles and two helicopters had arrived. Leo determined then that their best bet of escaping this alive would be to try to avoid direct confrontation and get out of the building so they could blow the foundation.

Leonardo knew that he and his brothers had faced what seemed like insurmountable odds before, and a lot more than fifty men. However, since he and his brothers were injured, he preferred to avoid a frontal assault against overwhelming numbers. That is if he could help it.

This mission had already gone a tad off course with the addition of taking a young girl under their charge, he didn't want to see it go farther off track by engaging in a small-scale war. No, it was best if he and his brothers just grabbed the girl, helped Dr. Gouyen and the agent escape and then get their shells back to New York City.

As such, once they reached to the 1st floor, they launched several smoke bombs into the lobby, charged Mikey and Raph with retrieving the girl, the scientist and the agent while he and Donatello cleared a path.

"They're not EPF, that's for sure!" Donatello shouted, rushing forward and knocking a couple of the men to the ground with his staff.

"They're ninja," Leonardo yelled back to his brothers as the sound of steel clashing rang out when his katana met the blade of one of the men in black.

"Foot?" Mikey asked as he rushed to Dr. Gouyen and Sonseeahray. He was soon joined by Raphael and as they went to pick the girls up, they noticed their wounds.

"Not the Foot, I don't think. Their fighting style is different," Donnie said as he blocked the thrust of a katana with his staff and narrowly missed being shot by the gun in the ninja's other hand.

Mikey shook his head, "The ladies are hurt, bad! The kid is barely conscious and the doc-" He glanced over to Raphael who had peeled Dr. Gouyen off the floor, and saw a massive amount of blood flowing from the wound at her hip.

Raph shook his head, "She don't look so good, bro!" Raph's eyes searched Gouyen's face and could see her skin taking on an unhealthy pallor. He noticed that her eyes were unfocused and her speech was slow whenever she tried to talk. "Take it easy, doc. We got ya."

Mikey took a look at the blood pooling around Gouyen, "Dudes, the doc's bleedin' bad! We gotta get them out of here so we can patch them up! It's okay, kiddo," Mikey whispered as he pulled the chimera into his arms and shifted her onto his left shoulder. "Big bro Mikey's got your back!" He and Raphael stood and followed their brothers through the lobby as Leo and Don cleared a path, leaving a wake of unconscious men behind them.

The leader of the men seemed to step through the smoke-covered melee. His eyes settled on Leonardo who was busy fighting off three men. Behind his darkened helmet, a smile pulled at his lips. He watched as the blue-clad turtle dispensed of three of his men in a brilliant display of skill and grace. He closed the distance between himself and Leonardo then.

"So, you are the Ninja Turtles?" The man stated in heavily accented English, the speaker embedded into the helmet making his deep voice sound almost metallic. The man and turtle began to circle each other slowly. "Your swordsmanship is quite impressive. It is rare to find a master of the _Niten-Ichi Ryu_." The man paused for a moment before continuing, "I prefer a blend of the old…" he gave his katana a twirl in his right hand, "…and the new," He finished by raising his gun.

"Who are you?" Leonardo demanded. He could hear the sounds of combat as his brothers fought their way through the armed men.

"You and your brothers will know soon enough. But not this night. Give us the Siren."

"Not a chance." Leonardo hissed and drew up his katana, preparing to deflect the first blow form the man standing before him. Catching movement out of the corner of his eye, he shifted his gaze toward the massive opening where the entrance used to be. Squinting through the thick smoke, he could make out the faint outline of heavily armored vehicles moving toward them. He looked back toward the man and pointed one of his katana toward him, "I'll be seeing _you_ again."

"That you will, turtle."

"Guys!" Donnie shouted, "Duck!"

One of the armored vehicles let loose a barrage of ammunition from a minigun mounted on the roof. The men in black dispersed under the hail of bullets as debris shot into the air as each round missed the Turtles and connected with the floor, wall, front desk, or even the bodies of the slain.

"They got a damn minigun!" Raph shouted as he carried Dr. Gouyen in his arms, leaping out of the way. "Who the shell are these guys?!"

Donnie used his _bo_ to vault over a spray of bullets before landing deftly on his toes in the midst of a group of men in body armor. Shifting his staff behind his back, he spun in a circle, taking the feet out from under them. In a glance, he could see the motionless frame of Agent Kramer lying nearby, his eyes staring vacantly toward the ceiling with two small, bloody holes in the middle of his forehead. Donatello grimaced, "I'm sorry, Agent."

Donnie shot back to his feet in time to knock another man to the floor with a thrust from his staff but the next ninja was already there. He came down on Donatello with a slash of his katana. Don deflected the strike and the man spun on his heel. In the blink of an eye, Don was staring down the barrel of a handgun. The brainy turtle moved just as the man pulled the trigger, the bullet grazing the turtle's right shoulder.

Donatello hissed in pain but refused to drop his _bo_. With a twirl, he knocked the gunman to the floor. Donnie then thrust with his staff with such force that the visor of the man's helmet shattered, pulverizing the teeth in his mouth. Another ninja was on him, but in a blink, he swung outward and up, catching the ninja under the chin of his helmet, forcing him to the floor in a groaning heap.

Donnie turned then, racing with the rest of his brothers through the lobby. The Turtles quickly found the stairwell marked 1B under heavy fire. Rushing inside, they descended the stairs.

"Guys, those ninjas made off with Slash..." Donnie panted as he ran behind his siblings.

"Yeah, and they wanted Sonseeahray, too," Leonardo added as he led his brothers down a hallway to his left.

"What would they want with Slash?!" Mikey asked.

"What would anyone want with that crazy turtle?" Raphael said, holding Dr. Gouyen tightly as he sprinted down another corridor with his brothers. He could feel it then, a warm liquid oozing down his shoulder, arm, and chest: he was slowly being covered in Dr. Kushala Gouyen's blood.

"Who knows? We'll figure it out later. First order of business: we get out of this alive!" Leo stated.

Swiftly finding their way through the underground labyrinth, they found themselves back in the morgue. From somewhere behind them, the heard a door slamming open with the echoes of footfalls rushing toward them.

Donatello quickly punched a few buttons on his wrist-mounted computer, temporarily disarming the laser system in the grate in the floor. Mikey was the first to jump down. He landed on his feet with a soft _thud._

"C'mon, guys, let's-"

Michelangelo heard the report from the gun mere seconds before he felt something slam into his shoulder. He stumbled backward, cursing loudly. Dropping Sonseeahray to the ground, the young girl made a quiet whimper of protest. He felt his right shoulder begin to throb as hot rivulets of blood began to flow.

"Mikey!" His brothers shouted in unison.

Before the ninja could get off another shot, Leonardo was upon him. His katana connected with the one the ninja was wielding in his right hand. Bringing up the gun in his other hand, he leveled the barrel at Leonardo. But Leo was ready, and with his own sword, he cleaved the man's arm from his body, spraying blood across the tunnel. In another swift movement, Leo separated the man's head from his body with his katana. "For my brother." He hissed.

In an instant, Raph and Donnie were both in the tunnel with their other brothers. Donatello rushed to Michelangelo's side, "You okay, Mikey?"

The orange-clad turtle groaned in pain as his brother inspected the wound. "Yeah. I'm good."

"Well, it looks like the bullet went clean through," Donatello stated. "Still, I'll carry the girl from here. Put some pressure on that until we're safe and able to attend it properly." He instructed as Mikey nodded, getting to his feet.

Donatello then turned his attention to the young chimera. She lay motionless in a heap not far from where Mikey was. He inspected the wound on her carapace which was still bleeding and winced. "Hang in there, kiddo. We're almost out of here!" He rolled her over, her face was as pale as a sheet and her eyes were closed behind her helmet's cracked visor. He gently rubbed her cheek with his hand, "Hey, I need you to stay awake, okay? Stay with me. I can't have you passing out and going into shock, okay? I need to open your eyes…"

The girl's eyes weakly fluttered open, "M-mummy…?" She whispered.

Donatello stole a glance toward Raphael who was still carrying Kushala Gouyen over his shoulder. He could see the blood from her wound began to cover his body and soak into his belt and the straps of his backpack.

Don returned his gaze toward the girl, and found himself staring into her mismatched eyes, "You…you're like…" she tried to whisper.

Donatello hesitated for a heartbeat, wondering what the girl was trying to say. _I'm like…what?_ He wondered. He quickly shook himself out of his thoughts and back into the present. The girl was injured and losing blood. She might be delirious. "Don't try to talk, we're getting you guys out of here." With a smooth motion, he lifted the girl's slight frame onto his shoulder and followed his brothers down the length of the tunnel until they came to the opening.

Leonardo scanned their surroundings. "We have two helicopters and two armored vehicles with at least, 35 more men."

"We can take 'em, Leo," Mikey stated. "I owe them one for my arm!"

"We're all wounded. I'm not going to risk you guys sustaining more injuries...or worse…for payback." Leo said.

Donatello peered out of the tunnel, his eyes widened and he became fixated on the armored helicopters hovering above the parking lot, barely visible against the night sky save only for a small, flashing light on the hull. "Fascinating...the helicopters barely make a sound. They seem to have been able to mimic military stealth technology."

"Come again?"

"The United States military has been working on stealth technologies and uses them on all sorts of transport vehicles…both for air and land…"

"Great. What's the plan, Fearless?" Raph snapped. The loss of blood and the urgency of their situation was agitating him.

"We're ninja," Leo whispered. "We stay low, stay in the shadows. Once we've put enough distance between ourselves and the lab-"

Mikey interrupted, "Then, we make the place go 'boom'!"

"Right, we make it go, boom!"

Swiftly and as silently as shadows, the Turtles kept to the darkness, their training allowing them to meld into the night. In a few quick strides, they were back at the perimeter fence, clearing its height with a few somersaults, and rapidly crossed the large field hugging the confines of Curiosum Labs like a lover. With their hearts pounding, the brothers closed the distance between themselves and the borrowed Creeper Van.

"Raph, you drive. After I detonate the explosives, I'm gonna need to help Mikey with Dr. Gouyen and Sonseeahray."

"Right." Raph gave a quick nod. He cleared a spot in the back of the van and gently lay the injured scientist down, then crawled into the driver's seat with Leonardo taking the passenger seat at his side. Michelangelo climbed in and Donatello followed, laying the young chimera next to Dr. Kushala Gouyen.

Closing the van's sliding door behind them, the Turtles were bathed in the van's stillness. They each began to have a faint ring in their ears as their bodies still pumped adrenaline through their veins and their pulse adjusted to their quiet surroundings. From this distance, Curiosum Labs hardly seemed like it contained the horrors that they had witnessed first-hand. Save for the lights from the strange vehicles, everything seemed peaceful.

After a breath, Leonardo turned to his bespectacled brother in the back. "What sort of damage will the explosives do to the surrounding homes?"

"Minimal damage. However, it'll wake up the entire neighborhood."

"Alright, Raph, punch it. Donnie, count to five and then hit it."

The van's engine coughed to life and Raph steered it down the streets, turning this way and that with such skill and speed that could only be found in one who learned to drive in New York City. Donatello punched a few buttons on his wrist-mounted computer, the virtual screen again coming to life before his eyes. Beside him, Mikey was at work tending to Dr. Gouyen and Sonseeahray's wounds.

Donnie drew in a deep breath, "One…"

* * *

 _Curiosum Labs_

 _Basement_

 _7:05 PM_

The group of strange ninjas, clad in black body armor and helmets, wound their way through the basement's labyrinth, searching for the Ninja Turtles. Their employer had told them that they would one day encounter those legendary creatures, but they did not expect that it would be this night.

The idea was almost ironic enough to make the team leader laugh. The average person was clueless about the existence of those mutant terrapins. But, being in the criminal underworld, word travels fast. At first, talk about Ninja Turtles was scoffed at and attributed to a bad batch of hallucinogens. However, as gangs such as the Black Dragons and even the Foot Clan spoke of them, it became apparent that such do-gooding creatures actually existed and, thankfully, their employer was preparing them for an inevitable confrontation. But, they did not expect the confrontation to come years earlier than expected.

They turned down another corridor and the team leader stopped in his tracks. His dark eyes fixating upon the C4 attached to the wall before him, a small green light blinking ominously. He cursed loudly in Japanese, and began to shout orders to the men behind him who turned and raced back the way they came…

* * *

 _Outside..._

"Five…" Donatello whispered. Hitting a button, the C4 they planted detonated, causing the building behind them to explode in a deafening display of light, sound and a shower of debris. Even from their distance, the shockwave from the blast, shook the Creeper Van, threatening to wrench the rusted bumper free from the vehicle.

Alarms from dozens of parked cars sprang to life, piercing the night with their high-pitched screams.

"Turtle power." Raphael grinned. "Eat concrete, ninja losers!"

Ignoring his brother, Leonardo turned to Donnie again, "How are they?"

It was Mikey who answered first, "I got the kid stable. I popped her shoulder back into joint, stopped the bleeding on her carapace, but she has a cracked rib. The doc…" his voice trailed off as he watched his brainy brother inspect Gouyen's wounds.

Donatello shook his head, "I can take care of the wounds at her shoulder and her leg, but the one in her hip…"

"What is it?" Leo asked.

"It's her femoral artery. But, it's retracted up into her body, which means I have to find it and clamp it."

"Can you do that?"

Donatello shook his head solemnly, "Not here. Not with the equipment I have. Which means…"

"She needs a hospital or she ain't gonna make it." Raph finished, frowning.

Donnie leaned forward, applying pressure to Kushala's wound at her hip with his full weight. He quickly tapped a few buttons on the computer mounted on his forearm, the colorful virtual screen coming to life once again. He quickly accessed directions to the nearest hospital and relayed the information to Raphael.

Donatello turned his attention back to Dr. Gouyen, "Stay with me, doctor…"

The turtle's voice seemed far away and Dr. Gouyen's thoughts were hazy. As much as she tried to focus, to find words to say, she barely had the strength to breathe, let alone speak. It was as if she could feel her life leaving her. Her foggy thoughts were filled with nothing but her daughters then. She wondered what they were doing at that moment. Were they waiting for her to come home? Or, did they getting ready for bed, expecting her to be there when they woke up?

Her brown eyes welled up with tears. Somehow, she knew she'd never see them again. "My…my…daughters…" Kushala managed to whisper.

"Don't speak, doctor. Save your strength. We're almost at the hospital and they'll fix you up!" Donnie said as he kept the pressure on her wound.

Dr. Gouyen shook her head lazily, "No…no…" Her head lolled to the side, her eyes taking in Sonseeahray's motionless form. Tears fell from her eyes, but she lacked the strength to sob.

"Hey, look at me," Donatello stated gently, "Stay awake. We're almost there."

Kushala turned her head slowly back to face the bespectacled turtle, her skin had become deathly pale, "You…you must…protect her…they…they're going to…"

"We'll take care of her, just, hang in there…"

"You…must…" Kushala drew in a shuttering breath, "My…little...girls…I'm sorry…I…"

Raphael made a sharp right and pulled up to a massive brick building. St. George's Hospital was to their left, just a few yards away. The massive expanse of the medical complex was bathed in light. Cars came and went from the nearby parking lot. Men and women entered and exited the structure from the large doors in the front of the building.

Raphael made another right and pulled the van to a halt. A large oak tree was able to block most of the light emanating from a street lamp, casting a dark shadow on the van. Raphael had been careful not to park too close the emergency entrance as he didn't want to risk exposing himself or his brothers.

Leo unbuckled his safety belt and crawled into the back of the van with Donnie and Mikey. "Alright. I'll take her to the emergency doors and get someone's attention so she can get the help she needs."

"Hear that doc? You're going to be okay!" Donnie said, returning his gaze to the scientist. However, he quickly realized that she wasn't breathing as her vacant eyes stared sightlessly at the van's ceiling.

"Doctor? Doctor Gouyen?! Leo, keep the pressure on her wound!"

Leonardo did as his brother said and leaned forward, putting all of his weight behind his hands as Donatello began CPR on Kushala Gouyen. His hands rhythmically pushed down on her chest in between breathing into her mouth.

"C'mon, doctor! Don't give up! We're right here!"

A thick melancholy began to hover in the air of the van. Seconds dragged into minutes and with each chest depression and breath that Donnie expelled into the doctor's mouth, Kushala Gouyen remained motionless.

Finally, Leo reached toward his brother who leaned forward, exhaling another breath into the doctor's mouth. "Donnie, it's over," Leo whispered.

Donatello jerked his shoulder away from Leo and sat back with a defeated thump. Emotion welling up in his eyes, he cursed under his breath. The Turtles sat in the van somberly. The adrenaline in their veins ebbing and allowing for the throbbing pain to take its place. Each of them sustained injuries, including the young chimera who still lay unconscious near Michelangelo.

Somehow, the emotional toll from the night was harder to bear. All of their lives they had fought to survive. They experienced love and even loss. However, as the years passed, the loss never seemed to get easier. True, the Turtles had just met Dr. Kushala Gouyen and Agent Kyle Kramer that night, but they seemed like two genuine people who were trying to do the right thing in a bad situation.

A short, muffled vibration cut through the bitter hush that had fallen over the Turtles, causing them to jump. Leonardo reached forward, finding Dr. Gouyen's pocket and pulled out her cellphone. The illuminated screen lit up the inside of the van, casting its blue-white glow on the battered and bloody faces of each of the brothers. Reading the screen, Leo saw that Dr. Gouyen had just missed a phone call from "home." The eldest turtled frowned, his heart filled with sympathy. He knew what the person calling the doctor's phone did not: she was never going home.

Leo sighed heavily, replacing her phone back into her pocket, "We should get to the entrance. Perhaps the staff can notify her family…"

In the front seat, Raph hung his head and nodded slowly, "Alright. I got your back, bro."

Leo leaned forward and closed Dr. Gouyen's eyes gently with his hand, "Your death won't be in vain, doctor. We'll watch after the girl. I swear it on my honor." With a quick movement, he pulled Kushala Gouyen's limp frame into his arms and followed Raphael out of the van.

Keeping to the shadows, the tow turtles made their way as close to the hospital's emergency doors as they dared to, and softly laid the scientist's body nearby. Once they retreated to a safe distance, Raphael tossed a few pebbles toward a pair of EMT's who emerged from the building and gained their attention. Within moments, the area was buzzing with activity.

With the attention of a multitude of security and hospital staff focused on the deceased woman left on their doorstep, Leo and Raph were able to easily return to the van. Once inside, Raphael brought the van back to life with the turn of the ignition key. He pulled away from the hospital and made their way in toward Heathrow Airport in heavy-hearted muteness.


	14. Chapter 14

_Delhi, India_

 _7:05 AM_

The fifteen-hour flight from Washington D.C. to Delhi, India was far from pleasant for Agent John Bishop. While the military jet cut through the sky, he received word from his affiliates in London that Curiosum Labs had been destroyed. To make matters worse, most of the security agents that were tasked with keeping the facility safe were slaughtered, save for two men who survived the explosion in a safe, as well as the tactical teams that were sent to engage Slash at the Labs. The scientists who were on duty last night weren't so lucky. All of their lifeless bodies were accounted for, including Dr. Kushala Gouyen (whose body somehow appeared at a local hospital), and Dr. Marius Schneider.

Baxter Stockman had arrived in London shortly after Bishop received the devastating news, to confirm the report. Thankfully, however, Stockman stated that they were able to clear away all of the EPF's top-secret property from the location before local police arrived on the scene. At least in that respect, Bishop thought, his team proved to be somewhat competent. The completely unacceptable fact was that both Project Slash and Project Siren were missing.

The two survivors of the explosion, along with the tactical teams weren't much help in answering the myriad of questions Bishop had racing through his mind. The tactical teams were hazy on the details of the evening. Whatever concoction of drugs they were hit with saw to that. Worse yet, the drugs that were administered had metabolized out of their system, leaving no trace of their chemical makeup. Regardless, they never made it to the location.

The two agents who survived the explosion due to being in the 7th-floor safe were only able to give details up until the point when they were knocked unconscious by one of the Turtles. Yet, they were able to remember that the purple-clad turtle was messing around with one of the computers

 _ **Donatello was downloading files, no doubt**_. Bishop thought to himself angrily as he listened to Stockman list off the biological items that were missing, and the agents and scientists that were confirmed dead. According to both his affiliates in London and Stockman's report, evidence suggested that a militaristic group had broken into the facility. However, it was unclear whether or not the Turtles or the thieves made off with Projects Slash and Siren, or if they simply helped them escape.

"We have a new player in the game," Bishop seethed, "Whoever hit Curiosum Labs had to know about my work! I want to know who this mystery player is and how they found out about my work with Dr. Schneider! Stockman, I want any and all evidence sent to our headquarters for analysis."

"Of course, Bishop. You know that with my incredibly high intellect here on the scene, we will have a fully detailed report for you in a week," Stockman stated, each word dripping with arrogance. "If I may say, Bishop…you should have put me in charge of your creature projects at Curiosum Labs. With my keen intelligence at the helm, the events of last night would never have happened!"

"I'm not interested in your commentary right now, Stockman! You have forty-eight hours to get me that report, doctor." Bishop snapped.

"O-okay. I'll send it right away. But, what about the Turtles?"

Bishop remained silent for a moment, memories of each of his past encounters with the mutants flooding his mind. For too long they interfered in his affairs. This was the final straw. They had to be eliminated. Another heartbeat passed, and the rough skeleton of a plan began to form, "Let the Turtles believe they have this victory. I'll deal with them myself when I return to the U.S." With that, he ended the call.

He knew that Stockman was about to say something, but he didn't care to hear it. After all these years, Bishop understood that while Stockman was a genius, he also had a penchant for pushing his buttons. Right now, he wasn't in the mood.

The loss of Dr. Schneider's brilliance was a tough blow. The work he was doing for Bishop's super-soldier program was nearing completion, but now that work was in jeopardy. Strangely enough, Dr. Schneider had suggested that the key to stabilizing the genetic improvements to the previous super-soldiers may come from the Siren's own part-human blood. Now, with Dr. Schneider dead and the Siren missing, Bishop's hope for his soldiers to be completed within the next six months was derailed.

"Do you think the Turtles have the Siren?" Agent Davies asked, almost as if he was reading his superior's thoughts. While still relatively new to the Earth Protection Force, Agent Davies had shown himself to be quite dedicated to the EPF's goals. As such, Bishop tapped the young Agent to accompany him with a few more men on their trip to the Siachen Glacier to check out the reports from Field Agent Bowman.

"She's still young, so it would seem that she doesn't pose much of a threat. She at least appears to be a turtle, or more specifically, a mutant turtle at first glance, and she's female. The odds are highly probable." He muttered, his eyebrows knit together.

"Would they kill her?"

"Not likely. From my experience, those freaks hardly have the stomach for such things."

"But what if they-?"

"Agent, I suggest you focus on the task at hand. Let me worry about the Turtles." Bishop fell silent then. His mind racing piecing together a plot to deal with the Turtles once he was back on US soil.

As is was, by the time Bishop disembarked from the jet, he was still in a foul disposition and the bumpy helicopter ride from Delhi to the Siachen glacier did very little to improve it. His dark eyes took in the vast, white expanse beneath them. The frozen wind whipped thin fingers of snow from the mountainous peaks. The land surrounding the Siachen glacier was notoriously inhospitable for anyone not accustomed to the terrain. In fact, it was a wonder that the Siachen conflict between Pakistan and India was able to occur in this torturous landscape at all.

Years ago, both countries agreed to a cease-fire, yet, things were still tense here. Thankfully for Agent Bishop, after the Triceraton invasion, he was able to make a few good contacts with India's military and as such, only needed to place a phone call for clearance to the archaeological site.

When Bishop and his team disembarked the helicopter, they were greeted by a small group of armed men, wearing all white. They each wore knit caps under heavy hoods and tinted goggles. As Bishop stepped forward, a fresh layer of snow crunched beneath his black snow boots as the icy wind clawed at his black, down-feather coat and whipped at his thermal pants, stinging the exposed skin on his face.

A man stepped forward from the group, the brown skin of his nose and wind-burned cheeks and full black beard the only parts of him visible through the layers of white. He held out his hand, "Good evening, Agent Bishop. I'm Captain Khatri. General Laghari sends his regards to you and your team. You are most welcome here.

"The General would have been here to greet you himself, but he is currently engaged at the dig site. We will escort you and your team to him."

Bishop gave Captain Khatri and his group a curt nod. He searched the faces of the men gathered and frowned, "Why is General Laghari at the site? Where is Agent Bowmen? He should have been here."

Captain Khatri turned to his men for a moment then, returning his gaze to Agent Bishop, he lifted the tinted goggles from his face, revealing dark, almond-shaped eyes, "My condolences, Agent Bishop, but your Agent Bowmen is dead."

"Dead? Explain."

Khatri turned and gave his men a nod. Another man stepped forward from the group, his face completely obscured by a white scarf tucked into his hood, muffling his voice, "I'm Lieutenant Patel, sir. I was forced to kill him, Agent Bishop."

"What?!"

Khatri interjected, "Please, Agent Bishop, I know this is a shock, but we had no choice. The situation at the dig site has become…complicated. One of the archaeologists unearthed something that caused her to become mad, violent. She began to change into…something. Before we knew it, she had infected many of the other archaeologists and security detail with whatever it was that possessed her, including your Agent Bowman."

Patel spoke up then, "Our apologies, Agent Bishop, but if we didn't act, many more may have been infected. We had to put them down."

"Them?"

"Whatever it was, it was highly contagious. We were lucky to get ahead of it like we did…at the cost of fifteen lives. That is why General Laghari is at the site. He is stationed there with a garrison of men making sure no one else enters the site and no one leaves until we determine what it was that caused the outbreak. It is also the reason why he so quickly granted you access. He feels your…expertise in these matters may help explain what happened." Captain Khatri motioned toward a line of snowmobiles, "Come. There is no time to lose."

Bishop couldn't argue with that. The news of the mysterious outbreak and Bowman's subsequent death hit him in the abdomen like a punch from a heavyweight boxer. _**Things just got complicated, indeed.**_ He mused as he and his group straddled a few of the snowmobiles and followed Captain Khatri and his team toward a high, snowy ridge.

The ascent made the mountainous peaks close in around them. As they surmounted the crest, sharp, icy cliffs plunged toward the cavernous abyss below while howling winds picked up loose snow and whipped it in their faces; the small crystals of ice hitting their exposed skin like a million tiny daggers, before melting into a wet sheen.

The group continued to follow the ridge north-eastward along a trail that seemed perilously narrow and barely able to sustain both a man and his machine. Higher and higher the group sped along a path cut into the side of the icy mountain range, a sharp cliff to their right threatened to swallow them. Even though the air got thinner, their breaths still came out as plumes of steam as they continued their ascent, until, at last, after a sharp turn to the east, they began to descend. They followed the river below as it cut its way through the valley.

After some time, the group finally came upon the Siachen glacier itself. They continued along their path until as night settled in around them and in the distance, Bishop could see a mass of various tents, lit by dozens of lights and vehicles dotting the horizon. Soon, he could make out the shapes of men going to and fro.

Once they arrived, they were greeted by more men dressed all in white. The arrivals turned off their snowmobiles and rose to their feet. Agent Davies stretched. It was clear to many that the young Agent hadn't spent much time in the mountains, nor was he accustomed to long periods of time sitting in one position for nearly nine hours.

Bishop took the opportunity to stretch himself. While his physical body could endure more stress than an average man's, he still welcomed the opportunity to get on his feet and walk about. It afforded him a chance to take in his surroundings. He glanced at his watch; fifteen minutes past 9 pm. He looked up at the sky above him, sparkling with millions of stars like tiny diamonds and he grimaced. Once upon a time, when he was a young, naïve man, he loved looking at the stars. Now all he saw were millions of unnamed threats.

He returned his gaze to the men around him, their covered faces illuminated by various military-grade tactical LED flashlights and overhead lamps perched upon high, black metal frames, bathing their surroundings in sharp, contrasting light and shadows. The Indian military swarmed the site with an edge that he expected after Captain Khatri's story. The anxiety the men felt after the outbreak was palatable and he couldn't blame them.

He was surrounded by a series of makeshift tents and a few military vehicles and off in the distance to his left, he could see it: the dig site, flanked by men with a vast array of weapons. He began to walk towards it when he heard Captain Khatri, "Come, Agent Bishop. General Laghari awaits."

Bishop stole another glance toward the site before turning and following after Khatri. Perhaps it was best if he heard what the General had to say. It never hurt him, in his profession, to get as much information as he could before entering into any given situation.

John Bishop followed Khatri through a small labyrinth of tents, passing by men who spoke with each other tensely in hushed Punjabi. Some of them stealing a glance toward the group of Americans dressed all in black.

He and his team stood out like sore thumbs, he knew. Yet, he scarcely allowed himself to care. The events of the day left a bad taste in his mouth. To him, the world felt like it was falling apart in his hands. Sure, to most people, the idea of the "world falling apart" was an overstatement, but for Bishop in his line of work, the day's events very well might lead to the earth's destruction.

On top of everything else today, he had to deal with an alien spacecraft that possibly infected a group of archaeologists as well as his own agent with a highly contagious foreign substance that resulted in the deaths of fifteen people.

 _ **Agent Bowman knew the risks…**_ Bishop told himself as they weaved their way through another group of soldiers. Whenever Bishop accepted a new recruit into his ranks, he had it drilled into each of their heads: their mission was to protect the earth from extraterrestrials. Nothing and no one was to get between them and their mission…even if it meant the loss of human lives…including their own.

They marched past another tent and rounded its corner to the right and came upon a tent that was larger than the rest. Armed guards were posted outside. They each nodded to Captain Khatri and Bishop as they approached. Stepping aside, the guards pulled open the tent's flap allowing the Bishop and Khatri inside.

* * *

 _New York City, United States_

 _9:00 AM_

The flight from London back to New York was a solemn one. While the Turtles successfully penetrated Curiosum Labs, downloaded files from the laboratory server, and detonated the building, they still felt that their victory was hollow.

They promised to save both Dr. Gouyen and Agent Kramer and failed. No matter how many times Leonardo replayed the events at the lab in his mind, he always came to the same conclusion: they should have been faster. Perhaps then, they would have been able to save Dr. Gouyen and Agent Kramer from their fates. Still, what bothered him the most was the strange ninjas they met at the lab. Who were they and what did they want with Sonseeahray and Slash? A sickening feeling began to claw at his stomach. Whatever it was, if Slash was involved, it wasn't good and he feared he and his brothers would find out whether they wanted to or not.

During the flight, the quartet tended to their respective wounds, pain beginning to wash over them in waves. Yet, they paid careful attention to the young chimera in their charge. The child slipped in and out of consciousness throughout the duration of the flight mumbling a variety of barely coherent things ranging from Dr. Gouyen's name to something about stars.

Donatello placed a phone call to April, letting her know that they were on their way home and inquired about Splinter. After learning he was resting comfortably, he ended the phone call and informed his brothers that their father's condition was relatively unchanged.

"But that's good, right? I mean, him resting?" Mikey asked, taking a seat beside a stack of wooden crates next to the sleeping girl. He turned his blue eyes to the chimera and gently rubbed her shoulder.

"Could be worse, I guess," Raph grumbled. "Let's just get home."

Donatello removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes. Even though it felt like every inch of him cried out in pain, sleep beckoned. "When we get back to the lair, I'll go check on him."

"We all will," Leo whispered.

The sun was already kissing the sky by the time the cargo jet landed at LaGuardia airport. The mid-morning hustle and bustle of New York's busiest airport were already in full swing making their exit from the aircraft slightly more complicated.

After scooping up Sonseeahray, Donatello followed his brothers out into the crisp morning air. Squinting their eyes against the bright sun, they made their way deftly past airport employees and security, darting this way and that, keeping just beyond the peripheral vision of any passerby.

The Turtles quickly found their way to the lower level of LaGuardia's parking garage and stealthily made their way to the large, green garbage truck with a yellow "Tartaruga Brothers" logo printed on each side. Inside, surrounded by the myriad of buttons and various tech gear that Donnie installed, they finally allowed themselves to relax. Firing up the garbage truck's massive engine, the brothers and their young charge soon found themselves on the road back toward Manhattan.

The drive along I-278, like their flight, was spent predominantly in silence. Each of them seemed eager to get home, check on their father, and then get some rest. Then, when they woke in the morning, they could decide on the best way to handle the girl.

Crossing over the RFK Triborough Bridge, weaving through traffic, Donatello would occasionally steal a glimpse of the chimera in the rearview mirror. Leonardo followed his gaze, "You think she's going to be okay, Donnie? That injury to her carapace looked pretty bad."

Donnie stifled a yawn before answering, "I think so. During our flight, I was able to get a good scan of her vitals," he absently motioned toward the high-tech goggles perched on his head, "and it was weird."

"Weird how?"

"It was almost as if her body was already starting to repair the damage on a cellular level...as if her system was regenerating the damaged tissue somehow..."

"Like a lizard when it regrows its tail?" Mikey chirped from the backseat.

"Something like that. I'm not sure how that's possible, but I'm willing to bet Dr. Gouyen's files might have something to say about it." Donatello yawned again.

"When we get home, you should get some rest, Donnie," Leo stated.

"I have too much work to do."

A faint smile pulled at Leonardo's lips. He knew that look on his brother's face: Donatello was going to burn the candle at both ends again. There were a few times in their lives when his brainy brother would forego sleep, and even food, if he was fixated on a task. Like when Donnie worked tirelessly to find a cure for their friends that were trapped in the abandoned city of the Y'Lyntians. "Alright," Leo finally said, "I'll put on a pot of coffee for you."

Donnie smiled and glanced at his elder brother, happy that Leo didn't try to argue with him, "Thanks."

"Well, you do what you have to do, Donnie. But once I check in on Splinter, and find this girl a room, I'm going to bed!" Mikey exclaimed.

"I gotta hit the shower…" Raph whispered, looking at Dr. Gouyen's dried blood that still stained his clothes and the front of his plastron in a rust-colored blaze.

Mikey frowned, "It's so messed up. Who were those guys?"

"We'll figure it out, Mikey. But first, we could all use some-gah!" The sharp lurch forward cut Leonardo off mid-sentence. "Donnie!"

"Sorry! It's traffic," He strained in the driver's seat, looking out over the cars before them that were crawling forward. "It looks like cars are being redirected up ahead…"

Leonardo leaned forward and flipped on the radio with a press of a button, "Maybe someone will have something on it…" He scanned through various radio frequencies until he found the news station.

The news anchor was already in mid-report, "…crowds are already gathering for another round of Humanity-First protests causing several street closures and major delays. Despite the fact that the Triceraton invasion ended years ago, many people still claim that aliens remain on our planet and reported sightings of non-human creatures continue to rise.

"Most recently, reports of an alleged lizard-creature stalking the swamps of Louisiana and the reports of some sort of yellow creature with horns in the southwest have prompted this new wave of Humanity-First protests. Citizens are demanding that their elected officials do something about these threats…"

"Threats…" Raphael grumbled, shaking his head. "We try to help them and they still think we're threats!"

"To be fair, the majority of humans don't know that. Plus, we do know of a few non-humans who are a serious threat, not just to humans, but to mutants as well," Donnie reasoned.

"Reports of a lizard-creature in the swamps of Louisiana…" Leo repeated, leaning forward to turn off the radio. "You guys don't suppose it's-"

"Mona?" Raph finished, his heart skipping a beat when he said her name. He bit his lower lip. It upset him that after all this time, Mona Lisa's name still made him feel the way he did all those years ago. Whenever he thought he was of it, _over her_ , he was reminded that he really wasn't. She was gone. She left New York. _She left him_. That was that. He hadn't heard from her or seen her in, what was it, ten years? "Hardly seems like her to get spotted. She knows how to stay hidden and cover her tracks."

Mikey nodded, "Yeah, she was pretty badass." He grinned, turning to Raphael, "She nearly kicked your shell in, bro!" He half expected Raph to protest, but his brother didn't even acknowledge the remark and remained silent. _**He still misses her…**_ Mikey thought sadly. It was common knowledge in their family that Raphael was pretty serious about the beautiful and buxom mutant lizard and when she left New York, he took it pretty hard. Even though that was nearly a decade ago, Mikey could see that he still carried feelings for her.

The orange-clad turtle sighed, "Have you tried contacting her? See how she's doing, bro?" Mikey asked quietly, a compassionate smile on his lips.

"Of course I've tried!" Raphael snapped. Then he whispered, "She just doesn't answer. She could be dead for all I know…" His voice trailed off.

"You know that's not true! Mona's a survivor. She's alive out there somewhere…"

 _ **She's alive…and she doesn't want to talk to me…**_ Raphael thought grimly. He absently shook his head. Crossing his muscled arms over his broad chest, furrowed his brow and leaned back in his chair. Frowning, he resumed staring at the floor.

Mikey understood his brother all too well, Raph was done talking about it. He sighed and turned back to the young girl beside him, "Anyone figure out how we're gonna explain _her_ to sensei when he wakes up?"

"We tell him the truth," Leo stated.

After what seemed like hours, Donatello finally managed to maneuver the truck through the road congestion, around the street closures set aside for the protesters, and find his way to the hidden opening that led to their garage underground. Inside the cool subterranean tunnel, Donnie instinctively piloted the vehicle through the labyrinth of connecting concrete passageways until finally, they reached a large underground atrium with high, vaulted ceilings.

The room was massive, set in the midst of various connecting tunnels. Inside, there was a slightly disassembled, old taxi car and the rusted steel frame of an automobile. To the right, an engine of some sort hung suspended above the ground by a thick chain. Adjacent to the engine was a large, blue, steel cabinet filled with a conglomeration of tools. A few draws were open with a couple of tools laying on the floor.

Steel shelves that stood against the walls on either side and they were cluttered with various mechanical spare parts. In the far corner to the left, was a large table stained with a variety of oils and greases. A couple of dirty, grease-stained towels lay in a haphazard pile on one corner, with a few finding their way to the floor.

Stepping out of the truck, despite the ventilation system installed above them, the brothers were met with the distinct odors of gasoline and grease, rubber, and oil all mixing together to scream that they stood in a well-used garage.

Michelangelo stifled a yawn as he instinctively moved toward the tunnel on their left, followed by his equally exhausted brothers. He glanced back and his siblings, each of them carried with them fresh wounds and bruises, cuts and scratches. It looked to him as if they had been through a war zone. _**I probably don't look much better…**_ he thought, turning back to the tunnel.

Donatello cradled the young girl in his strong, muscular arms. Her spindly figure was feather-light in his embrace. He glanced down at her as he deftly made his way around his scattered equipment. She had spent so much of their trip in and out of consciousness and in deep sleep that he was beginning to worry. The nasty wound on her carapace was quite deep and Donnie was sure that it would leave three deep fissures in the bony structure.

 _ **Poor kid,**_ he thought, _**she shouldn't have had to try to take on Slash. She had to know she wasn't going to beat him…**_

Donnie frowned as he ducked his head and entered into a shadowy tunnel, cool dampness pressing in around him like the arms of an old friend. His green-gold eyes adjusting to the darkness, catching glimpses of his brothers' silhouettes slightly ahead of him. The acrid smell of rotting garbage mixing with the faint odor of waste from a far-off raw sewage conduit greeted his nostrils like a punch in the face. Yet, he and his brothers were used to the stench.

The strong smell jarred the young chimera from her deep sleep. Her eyes blinked back the tiredness that still called to her, adjusting to the blackness, as she realized that she was being carried by the turtle with glasses, wearing a purple mask and high-tech goggles on his head and recalled his name, Donatello.

Donnie noticed Sonseeahray stirring in his arms, "How ya feelin', kiddo? You've spent most of the trip out cold. I was starting to worry…"

"She's awake?" Michelangelo's voice echoed back to him.

"Yeah."

Mikey, Raph, and Leo halted their progress and turned back to meet Donatello in the tunnel, their four shadows looming over her in the dark. Even with her sharp eyesight, the lack of any light source made it difficult for her to make out their faces. Her mind began to swirl with a strange mix of memory and reality as her imagination forged the shapes around her into the form of Slash.

Sonseeahray swallowed back her fear. _**That can't be real.**_ She thought wildly, _ **I know Slash's scent, and he's not here…and yet…**_ "Where…" She rasped, "…where am I? Where are we going? Where's Dr. Gouyen?" Her posh British accent echoing down the expanse of the tunnel.

"Keep it down, kid." Sonseeahray recognized Raphael's thick New York accent as the pungent odor of the tunnel invaded her senses, causing her sinuses to begin to swell and her eyes to water. She shook her head absently and tried to cover her face with her hand, but her arm screamed in pain. Her shoulder may have been put back into its joint, but it was agony to move.

"You're in New York City. Well, under it, actually. We're taking you to our home. We're going to look after you, just like we promised Dr. Gouyen." Donnie glanced down at the girl and could tell she was struggling with the smell.

"Where is Dr. Gouyen?" the young chimera managed to say, lifting her other hand to her face.

The heavy silence her question was met with spoke more loudly than any words could have. She stifled a sob, "You didn't get her out?"

"I'm sorry," Donatello whispered, empathy dripping from every syllable he spoke, "We tried to get her to a hospital…but she lost too much blood from her wounds. She didn't make it."

Sonseeahray wanted to scream and claw at the shadows that surrounded her, demand that they explain why they failed to save the only mother she ever knew, but she `couldn't. Her body was physically reacting to her surroundings, overpowering the emotional storm inside her. She gagged and coughed behind her small, clawed hand.

"I'm sorry. I guess you're not used to the sewer life, huh?" Donatello's voice betrayed his slight embarrassment.

"It's not the Hilton," Mikey chirped, "But…" his voice trailed off and he sighed in defeat. "Okay, let's be honest, you'd be better off at the Hilton."

"Perhaps," Leo stated, his smooth baritone caressing her ears like a warm blanket, "but living underground has kept us safe all these years. And it'll keep you safe too, Sonseeahray."

"She'll get used to it," Raph mumbled. "She has to."

Sonseeahray shook her head again as if to try to stop the stench in the air from invading her lungs. She drew in a deep breath but found that she could even taste the scent of the air on her tongue and her stomach heaved. "Please…please put me down."

Donnie frowned, "Can you stand? You lost a lot of blood with that injury to your carapace…"

"I'm going to vomit!"

"Oh." In a swift movement, Sonny was on her feet, her thin legs trembling beneath her, unsure of their own ability to carry her. She stumbled and her arms flew out in front of her in the dark ready to brace herself and yet, she felt a strong arm encircle her, gently leading her to the side of the corridor, her hand connecting with cold, damp brick.

"Take it easy, kid. I gotcha." Raph whispered, his voice thick with empathy.

Another dry heave and Sonseeahray doubled over and vomited what little contents were still left in her stomach. The pressure in her sinuses was building and she could feel a headache creeping up on her. She struggled to breathe but was assailed once more with the overpowering fetor of the tunnels around her making her gag. Her small frame spasmed again as another wave of nausea coursed over her. She could smell everything: decomposing trash, mold, and the pungent funk of human waste mixing in with the sweat and individual scents of the four turtles. It was overwhelming.

"We have to keep moving," Leo stated sympathetically, "The lair isn't like this. Donnie installed a pretty thorough ventilation system and you can't really smell any of this."

Sonseeahray shook her head and immediately regretted doing so, the motion causing yet another wave of nausea to hit her, "I can't." She breathed.

"Yes, you can."

"I can't! I can't stay down here!"

"Okay, well…it might be an adjustment from what you're used to," Mikey started but the young chimera cut him off.

"I can't adjust! I scent!"

"What? What do you mean? I think you smell okay…"

She turned her head toward the sound of their voices, bracing her slight weight against the wall and she snapped, "I can track scents, you twit!"

"Hey, no need for name-calling, kid!" Raph warned.

"Raph, give the kid a break. She's injured, vomiting and far away from home, surrounded by a group of mutants she doesn't really know." Donatello said.

Through the jumble of olfactory assailants, she could distinctly pick up on Donatello's scent like an invisible fingerprint as he moved closer to her. The smells of oil, gear lubricants, and the subtle aroma of machinery mixed in with his sweat. There was something else, she realized. It was faint, lurking on the edges of his essence like a phantom, whispering of long-dormant threat. A threat that reminded her of Slash and herself. The name of that threat dancing across her memories: The Outbreak Virus. All of those things whirled together, drowning her senses with information, producing the heady, masculine musk that was distinctly Donatello.

She searched the darkness, her eyes focusing on his silhouette, her imagination once again playing games with her sense of reality. She wanted desperately to envision the warm, bespectacled face she had seen back at the lab, but instead, she once again saw only saw Slash; his menacing grin, his clawed hand slicing into her carapace, ripping the breaches of her practice armor, and lowering himself on top of her to…

Raph's voice brought her back to reality, "What are we gonna do? She says she can't stay down here…"

"I can adjust the ventilation system at the lair so that it clears out more air pollutants and offensive odors..."

"How long will that take?" Leo asked.

"A day. Maybe two." Donnie turned to the young chimera and reached out a comforting hand, "There are a lot of kids in the world with really sensitive respiratory systems. I can just tweak a few things, technologically speaking, to account for your acute olfaction."

"So what do we do in the meantime?" Raph asked. "We can't have the kid vomiting for however long it takes to set that up, Donnie."

Mikey snapped his fingers, "What about LH?"

"LH?" Raph repeated.

"Totally! It's still underground, but-"

"He doesn't live in the sewer." Leo finished.

"An abandoned subway station may offer a reprieve from the redolence of the sewer, but it may come with its own set of issues," Donnie mused thoughtfully. "We can see if he would be willing to watch her."

"Alright. Donnie, you and Mikey take Sonseeahray to Leatherhead's and see if he's willing to help out. Since the two of you have the better relationship with him, he may be more willing to lend a hand. Raph and I will check in with father and April."

Sonseeahray swallowed hard, her nausea giving way to fear, "But…wait…who's Leatherhead?"

* * *

 _Indian-controlled Siachen Glacier_

 _9:45 PM_

The interior of the tent was decorated with a vast array of military maps. To the left was a small, makeshift communication center manned by a couple of military personnel wearing headphones, their eyes fixated on the computer screens before them. To the right, another table and on top of it, a fresh pot of hot coffee with disposable cups. Each corner had an electric heater that cast a warm, yellow-orange glow into the room. However, the heaters barely cut through the oppressive chill in the air. Still, it was better inside than it was outside. In the center of the room, a group of men was busy pouring over a mass of papers.

Captain Khatri removed the gear covering his face and approached the group. He quickly announced his presence in Punjabi. The men each gave each other a stiff salute before turning their attention to Bishop.

An older man who seemed to be in his fifties gave the slightest of nods, "Agent Bishop, it is good to see you again." General Laghari straightened and made his way around the table toward the American. He was a tall man with an athletic build. His face was strikingly handsome with only the slightest of wrinkles kissing the corners of his dark eyes. His dark skin was like smooth milk chocolate. A full salt-and-pepper beard covered his square jaw. Grey hair flirted with his thick, black curls cut close to his temples. He too was dressed head-to-toe in white snow gear. Beyond that, he could have passed for a man in his thirties.

The two gave each other a brief salute and then shook hands, "Your presence here is much appreciated, Agent. Your expertise in these matters is needed."

"Thank you, General," Bishop began, pushing his tinted wireframes up onto the bridge of his nose with a thin finger. "Perhaps you can brief me on what occurred here?"

The General nodded, "Of course. Perhaps all will be better explained when you see it for yourself." With that, Laghari lead Bishop out of the tent and back into the frigid glacial air. The men zig-zagged through more soldiers and a few more tents until they came upon a smaller tent with a longer one attached to the back of it. The perimeter was surrounded by more heavily armed military men.

Laghari and Bishop entered into the smaller tent through a flap and they were greeted with a clear plastic curtain that obscured a smaller corridor leading to the longer, adjacent tent. To their left and right were a series of blue hazmat suits with matching headgear.

"I must ask that you put one on, Agent Bishop," the General stated, motioning to the suits, "Whatever infected the victims are highly contagious and I don't want to run the risk of my men having to kill anyone else if I can prevent it." With that, he grabbed a suit from the wall himself and began to put it on over his clothing as Bishop did the same.

When both men were covered, they passed through the clear plastic curtain and entered into the corridor, where they were met with a blast from the decontamination shower installed above their heads. Once that was completed, they stepped forward toward the plastic curtain at the other end of the short corridor. Peeling it aside, Laghari allowed Bishop to step inside first.

The dim lights illuminated fifteen bodies each on their own stainless steel table. Each victim still wore their own clothes which made it rather easy for Bishop to locate Agent Bowman among the fallen. As he approached the fallen agent, Bishop could see that something was terribly wrong. Bowman's limbs looked as if they had been inhumanely stretched as if they were made from putty. Where his skin was exposed, it had turned gray in color and began to shred away from his bones in soft ribbons of flesh, exposing the meat beneath in jagged red lines.

Bowman's face had become gaunt, his blue eyes had sunken in but remained open in a wild-eyed stare. In the center of his forehead was a small bloody hole, doubtlessly left by the bullet that took him down. His lips stretched back away from his mouth that gaped open in a silent snarl. The Agent's teeth had fallen away to be replaced by serrated fangs on both his upper and lower jaws.

Bishop grimaced and bent at the waist to get a closer look at his fallen agent. With a covered hand, he reached out and gingerly pushed Bowman's lips back from the fangs protruding from his milk-white gums. "A mutation." He spat.

"Your Agent Bowman is not the worst of them, Agent Bishop." The General whispered, almost as if he were cautious not to wake the dead.

"Show me."

General Laghari turned on his heel then, and led Bishop toward the back of the tent, moving past the other victims who lay silently on their steel tables.

"Doctor Zuerst was the first archaeologist who succumbed to the strange symptoms. According to reports, she uncovered something inside the site and shortly thereafter, became quite ill. A few of her companions believed she was dead, but they were wrong."

Bishop examined the body of the archaeologist as Laghari continued, "They noticed that her body began to morph into something else, and quite quickly, too. Before they knew it, she was awake and attacking members of her own team, infecting them with the same sickness, transforming them into these creatures as well.

"Thankfully, Captain Khatri and his team were nearby and were able to neutralize the threat. He informed me, I came here and then you called me." Laghari motioned toward the woman lying on the table in front of them, "As you can see, your presence here is much needed."

Bishop remained silent as he took in the still form of what must have once been Doctor Zuerst. Her current form left her identity barely recognizable as human, let alone a well-respected archaeologist. Her skin had become a sickly gray-white color with strange scaling. When Bishop would gently touch it with his gloved fingers, the scales would move slightly, almost like the liquid crystals in an LED screen.

Her limbs had become inhumanely stretched like Bowman's, however, her fingers developed long talons and her legs bent awkwardly, almost like an animal's. Zuerst's face had become gaunt, twisted into a form that was vaguely human. Her open mouth looked like it belonged to a shark, not a woman and her hair had fallen out in clumps. On the top of her head, a large bump had formed into a soft peak.

Bishop squinted at the remains of what used to be Doctor Zuerst and cursed under his breath. "General, I'm going to need access to the site. I need to know exactly what she saw and what triggered this."


End file.
